


Can’t Take The Fight Out Of The Man

by WordCollector



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Blood, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor OC Death, Nausea, Past Torture, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordCollector/pseuds/WordCollector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky fights aliens, himself, and Steve, not necessarily in that order.</p>
<p>His nature has always been to protect people, help people, fight for people. They turned his own nature against him. He doesn’t trust himself, but this time it’s easier to see where he should stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can take the man out of the fight, but not the fight out of the man.  
> James Buchanan Barnes tries to fly under the radar now. Live a normal life, free from Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D., free from fighting, free from killing.

He runs his hand over his dark beard. Considers shaving. The beard changes the shape of his face. Make him look unfamiliar, a stranger in the mirror. He runs his fingers through his long hair, it grows fast. It gets in the way, makes him hot and sweaty. Makes him look strange. Like a Hobo. His parents would hate it, he should cut it all off.

He won’t. It stays.

The disguise is less about other people recognizing him. More about changing who he is, becoming someone else. He goes by James now. He changed his last name a few times as he hit different towns. Tried them on like new shirts. They became problematic. When he didn’t respond to his own name, people became suspicious. He tried to pretend he had trouble hearing. Eventually, he found one he would respond to. Any time someone said ‘Rogers’ his head turned. 

Stepping from the bathroom, he shrugs on a heavy dark blue jacket, shoves a bag in his pocket, and locks his apartment door. The stairwell is quiet and empty this early in the morning. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he avoids looking at the newspaper headlines in the box on the corner. 

Almost daily, the papers have the Avengers on the cover. Aliens, Hydra, there are so many excuses. Mostly, people just want to see the Avengers save the day, and it never ends. Steve’s face is usually right in the middle. Everyone still loves Steve. Iron Man occasionally wanes in popularity, especially if Stark is giving the press a hard time. Thor is an alien himself, and sometimes the press coverage isn’t favorable. Hawkeye, Widow and Hulk try to stay in the shadows, more than willing for Steve to be on all the covers. He is still practically wearing a damn flag, almost challenging the paparazzi to take a photo where he isn’t right in the center. James scowls. He caught a glimpse of the cover, Steve is jumping off a roof. He didn’t read the headline. He refuses.

James wears thick gloves, and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, shivering as a gust of cold wind hits him. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the sky is a grayish blue on the horizon. There are a few cars on the streets as he waits, but it’s mostly empty too. He spots the big blue pick up as it comes around the corner. It pulls up in front of him and he pulls his hands from his pockets to opens the back door of the extended cab. The two men in the back make room and he slides in. 

Squeezed in the back, the other men are clutching their coffee, trying to drink while the truck pulls away. The big guy in the passenger seat is shoving an egg mcmuffin into his mouth in big bites. No one usually speaks on the morning drive. They always stop for breakfast on the way to James’ apartment. James always eats before the drive. He is picked up last, and the vehicle is too cramped for him to eat. He can’t eat all of that grease anyways. It makes him feel queasy, especially when they have a hard day in front of them. It’s always a hard day. 

The boss, Mr. Glass drives the truck. If it looks like they are going to have an easy day, he might send one of them home. It used to be James, since he was new. It didn’t take long for Glass to realize James is like a machine and rarely takes a break. Now, he sends Rocky home. 

Rocky smokes and takes smoke breaks, he also likes to talk. James rarely speaks to anyone. Rocky talks to everyone. When he and James are working alone, Rocky keeps up the conversation for both of them. As long as James nods and ‘Hmms’ at the right spots, Rocky doesn’t need James to say a thing. James likes working with Rocky. The others look at James suspiciously. They don’t like that he doesn’t talk to them. 

He heard Javier tell Rocky that he doesn’t trust James. Javier said it in Spanish. James pretends he doesn’t understand Spanish, and Javier pretends he doesn’t speak English. They both have their secrets.

When they get to the job site, they all tumble out and pull the shovels from the truck bed. 

Glass goes over to check out the area, big red mug in his hand. He looks over the previous day’s work and comes back giving each man his task. As James begins to dig, Glass leans on a tree and pulls out his phone. He calls his girlfriend every day when they hit the job site. Glass laughs for a while, then hangs up. He claps Jones on the shoulder as he walks past, then heads back to the truck. The big truck rumbles to life and pulls away. Glass will be back in about an hour, then he will call his wife and tell her what a rough morning they had. Everyone has their routine.

James just loses himself in the digging. Monotonous, and simple, he likes to dig. Rocky likes to move rocks, carry plants and load wheelbarrows full of mulch or sod. He said he likes to make things look good, bring an area to life. James likes to dig, and they let him.

Before long, it’s time for lunch. Everyone has a packed lunch, James included. Javier and Rocky usually have subs. Loaded subs with tomato, lettuce, meats and cheese. James has a bag with a couple of white bread, peanut butter sandwiches, and a can of tomato soup. The soup is meant to be micro-waved and eaten from the cup, but James drinks it cold. Sometimes he brings cream of mushroom, or a can of vegetables. 

While they eat their lunch under the trees, a jet flies low overhead. Jones gets up and walks into the clearing for a closer look. He stands in the open grassy field and shields his eyes, craning to see where it went. Glass opens his truck door and hangs up his phone. Two more jets race by, low enough that the crew is buffeted by the wind as they roar past. Then a small figure in red and gold blows by so fast it’s just a red streak. They all knew it was Iron Man though. Javier jumps to his feet and curses in Spanish, his smile is huge as he turns to them to verify if they saw the same thing. 

A loud hum is followed by a blue light, and then the field is just scorched dirt. The grass burnt away, and Jones is gone. James jumps up and runs. He grabs Rocky by the back of the jacket hauling him up to get him moving, they pile into the truck bed, as Glass starts the truck. 

Glass begins to speed away before Javier is even in. James reaches out with lightening quick reflexes and snatches Javier as they speed past, throwing him on top of Rocky in the bed. They all bounce and tumble around with the tools as Glass floors it, hitting a ditch and becoming air born before screeching onto the blacktop. He fishtails for a second, then they are off like a shot down the road.

The ride smooths out, and Javier sits up and yells “What the hell was that?” in Spanish. 

Rocky looks back, still sitting on a post-hole digger. His mouth is open and eyes are wide, “Did we just leave Jones?” he whispers in Spanish.

James sighs and shakes his head no, putting his hand on Rocky’s arm. He wonders if he looked as shocked when he first saw someone disappear into a terrible blue light.

Javier runs his hand over his short brown hair and covers his eyes. Finally seeing Iron-Man in person turned out a lot less cool than he thought.

They rode on in silence. James wonders if anyone was going to tell Jones’ family. If he had one. Jones kept to himself, rarely even talking to Glass. Glass wasn’t going to tell anyone. He paid them all under the table. James caught a glimpse of his credit card once, and knew Glass wasn’t even his real name. 

As they neared town, Glass took a turn that took them towards his home. James didn’t know where Glass lived, but he knew what direction it was. This was taking them further away from where James lived. When the truck slowed to take another turn, James jumped from the back of the truck. After he rolled to a stop on the grass, he stood, and saw Javier and Rocky staring at him wide eyed leaning over the tail gate.

Turning back towards town, James took off at a quick jog. His muddy brown work boots thumped against the hard shoulder of the road. The trees were still pretty thick this far out, and there wasn’t any traffic on the road. He wasn’t in a busy area, but this was still pretty odd. 

Rounding a bend, he came over a hill. A rolling farm field gave him a clear view of the town. It was in the middle of a mass exodus. Few were heading up toward the hill, most driving away. James turned and looked over his shoulder. The air was charged. He could feel the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. The wind started to blow from the tree line. A strong wind, trying to push him down. He braced himself, and saw a big aircraft materialize. It was easily two or three football fields long. It was hard to judge, the whole craft didn’t stay visible long, or all at one time. Parts were visible, then would disappear, then in a big whoosh, he knew the thing flew away.

Looking back towards the town, James broke into a full run. No one even spared him a glance, they were all too occupied getting their own families to safety. Wherever that might be. It looked like the consensus was west. 

By the time James reached his building, it was empty. There was some trash on the floor where someone dropped their suitcase and just left the clothes and toiletries there in the lobby. Climbing an empty stairwell, he opened his door, and grabbed his bag. He always kept a bag packed. On the way down, he passed a room that left the TV on. He could hear the news anchors describing a battle in DC. It spilled over to the nearby military base to the east. Now he understood why all the civilians were heading west. As he came back down to mostly deserted streets, a few last cars whizzed by. Three times cars jerked to a stop and yelled for him to get in. Each time he waved them off, they looked at him like he was crazy, but zipped away. 

A nice new black Camaro sat in a parking lot. James wanted this car. He could have a flashy new ride, and no one would be the wiser. He would ditch it later. Carefully, he tried to finesse the door open. The car was nice, he liked it and didn’t want to rip the door off. The door popped open, and he slung his bag into the back. A reflection moved in the distance, he looked up and saw movement in the shop on the corner. 

Slowly using her cane, the gray haired woman walked towards the front window and looked out. 

Abandoning the car, James ran towards the shop. He opened the door and the woman looked surprised. He knew this woman. Daily, he bought his groceries from her. When he first arrived in town, she would give him things. She said she couldn’t sell them because they were bruised or past their expiration date. She kept him from going hungry, when he had to choose between food or a roof over his head. Now that he had an income, he insisted he pay for everything. 

She looked like she had been crying, her eyes and nose were red, and she clutched a handkerchief in the hand not holding the cane. “Good Lord, Son. Why are you still here?” She pointed at the door with her cane. “You need to go, the news says the town will be flattened within an hour.”

He moved towards her “You need to go too.” he said reaching out to grab her hand.

She pulled it away from his reaching hand, and he stopped. “No. I stay here, where I have lived my whole life. My Herbert is gone. I’ll just be with him.”

He reached out again, “Not today you won’t.” James scooped her up and carried her out towards the car.

“Wait! Wait! My Cookie.” She pushed at him, and was about to whack him with the cane. 

He turned and ran to the back door of the shop, where he found a fuzzy old tan dog. Cradling the woman with his left hand he reached down and scooped up Cookie with his right, then ran back towards the Camaro.

He settled the two of them into the passenger seat, and raced away to the southwest. It was away from the base, and would get them to the highway faster. Soon, the quick sports car was passing some of the slower trucks making their way to safety. 

A few times, things flew over their heads in different directions. None of the things that flew past were any aircraft he could identify. The old woman next to him, rarely looked at them as they flew over. She just pet the dog. 

“Danny has kin in Kentucky.” She suddenly said.

Turning to look at her, James asked “Is Danny a relative? You want me to take you to Kentucky?”

She looked at him with sharp brown eyes “Danny is the nice boy from the garage, who worked two jobs to buy this car.” 

James barked a laugh at her. “Then he’ll be glad his car didn’t get flattened with the rest of the town.”

The highway was crowded. The radio announced that there were emergency relocation centers set up to the west. He was headed that way to drop off Mrs. Clifford. They had exchanged names and made some small talk on the way there. When he found out she had a cousin in West Virginia, he said he would take her there instead. She said she would rather head home, but West Virginia would be better than some government refugee camp.

Mrs. Clifford’s cousin was surprised, but thrilled to see them when she found them knocking on her door. Mrs. Clifford introduced him as “James Rogers my own personal superhero.” and James blushed and became a little sweaty. He claimed he needed to leave, and had family he needed to find. Mrs. Clifford gave him the stinkeye and boldly said “Where?” 

James stammered a bit, but said “Brooklyn” out of instinct. 

She responded with “Who?”

“My sister.” he was able to quickly respond. Proud he had stopped sweating and stammering from being quizzed by a hundred pound woman holding a small fuzzy dog. 

“We’ve been on the road hours. Come inside and eat first.” She said and set down the dog to walk slowly into the house. 

“Yes, ma’am.” he said and followed her and her cousin Sandra inside.

Inside, he found a house full of little figurines of kids doing cute things. The couch had lacy pillows, and he didn’t know where to stand. Sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades, and his shirt stuck to his back when he turned to watch the old women. They talked about the terrible ‘situation’ in the capital, and shook their heads. Sandra ushered her cousin to sit in the living room. James didn’t know if he should sit. His boots and pants were covered in dried red clay. He turned a circle, and just as he was ready to excuse himself, Sandra turns up with a hard wooden chair. She places it behind him and waves him into it. 

He sits and stares at his hands. They are still in gloves. Sandra disappears back into the kitchen, then turns up again with two glasses of sweet tea. She has her television turned off. The black screen seems even more ominous than the 24 hour news coverage. As if the rest of the world is already gone. It’s just the two women and himself, returned to a simpler time before television. He sips at the tea. He didn’t realize Sandra had gone until she turns up again, plates of tuna sandwiches in hand. She sets them on the small coffee table next to a little statue of a kid and a wagon. 

He quickly eats while wondering about the little statues. He doesn’t purposefully tune out the old women, but their conversation about which cousin is still alive, doesn’t hold his interest. The little statues are everywhere and he wonders why. What purpose do they serve? Then he thinks about the string of places that he has lived in the past few months. Always working under the table, he usually barely made enough money to pay for a room and food. If he had extra money what would he spend it on? Not little figures. The fancy car in the driveway might be an option. He sure likes that car. 

He must spend a lot of time staring at the kid and the wagon. He distantly hears Sandra say “Would you like it?” He looks up, not sure what she is referring to. She repeats “The porcelain figurine? Would you like it?” 

He stops chewing, his mouth still full of sandwich, and looks at the two women while they stare at him waiting for an answer. 

He swallows. “I don’t think I have anywhere to put it, Ma’am.”

Sandra stands up and goes to the closet. She rummages for a second and comes back with a shoe box. “Take it anyways.” she says while pulling a sheet of tissue paper from a drawer. She carefully wraps the figure and packs it away into the box. He silently watches her while finishing his sandwich. 

“They remind me of my boy.” Sandra says quietly. “He was such a cute boy, and grew into a handsome man. He was killed in the invasion of Panama. Not many people still remember that war.” 

Everyone was silent for a while. The only sound in the room was Sandra crumpling paper and carefully packing it around the little porcelain statue. 

She looks up and smiles a sad smile. “You probably weren’t even born yet.” she adds, as she takes the box into the other room to tape it closed. 

The sandwich has become a lump in his stomach, and he can’t quite work up the saliva to swallow the mouthful he has. He feels sweat trickle down his back again, and he wants to leave. 

Using the tea to make the sandwich go down, he finally swallows, and stands. Mrs. Clifford is silently watching him. She stands after a minute and puts her hand on his arm “I lost my first husband to World War Two. Not during. After. He came home from the war, but he never shook it lose. He tried, but eventually he was gone.” she looks up at him when she talks, but he can’t look her in the eyes. He stares at her white sneakers. 

Sandra returns and holds out the box. His hands shake when he takes it and he has to use both, trying not to drop it. He murmers “Thanks.” nodding his head, and adds “I have to go.” 

He has to restrain himself from running for the door. As he loops around and drives down the dirt driveway, he looks in the rearview mirror. Both women are standing on the big covered porch. Sadly waving, and holding hands. The shoebox sits on the passenger seat, as he aims the car back towards DC.

Traffic was mostly moving towards the west. The eastward bound side became more deserted the further he went. After a few hours he realized more and more gas stations were either closed or have signs ‘No Gas’. The few that were open had lines, as people still fled their homes. James pulled into a station that was open and still pumping. As he waited in line, he rummaged through the car for money. He came up with four dollars in quarters in the cup holder, and two singles balled up with a receipt jammed down next to the seat. He still had three dollars left from his trip west with Mrs. Clifford. Reaching into his pocket for the remaining singles, he found a wad of bills. Twenties. 

The old woman must have put them in there when he had to lift her from the seat in the low sports car. He carefully counted the money. There was a fifty in the middle, and he stared at it. The wad contained two hundred and fifty bucks. She must have taken the money from the register when they left. It would have been stupid to leave it there. 

The car in front of him moved forward, and he inched the camaro up. He looked at the blue box in the seat next to him. There was a big plywood hand painted sign at the end of the gas pumps that read Pre-Pay. He cut the car off, and jumped out to go inside. 

The store shelves were mostly cleared off, with a few lone old dented cans sitting by themselves. He grabbed a slightly dented can of squash and paid the harried man behind the counter. 

Once back on the road, he turned on the radio. The news was grim. He didn’t know what happened to the small town they had fled, but the next one up the highway and two others in the area were hit by some sort of ray. Only scorched earth was left. Another town was on fire after being hit by a ton of falling debris. The news said the debris came from space. A huge alien spaceship was destroyed and fell to the earth, leaving miles of burning wreckage, and one small town on fire. The military was doing all they can, but they weren’t equipped to handle this. The Avengers were at the center of this fight. 

As the roads became more deserted, he came across a ‘road closed’ barricade placed to stop eastward traffic. He drove around it and hoped he hadn’t made a bad choice stealing this car. If he needed a SUV, he would make the switch. In the mean time, he liked this car. 

He turned off the radio when he heard a rumble in the distance. It stopped, but he pulled over and looked around. He heard it again. It only lasted a few seconds but the ground shook. He got back in and started eastward again, a few last cars zoomed by him. The westward cars were in a hurry now. 

Coming around a bend, he found a minivan on the side of the road smoking. The hood was open, and occasionally a car zoomed past them. A man and his two kids looked panicked. They had everything they could fit jammed into that poor old car. The kids couldn’t have been older than five. James pulled over, he was ready to hand them the keys to his car when the ground shook. 

The kids screamed, the dad hugged them both in his arms, and James crouched trying to keep his balance. A dozen space ships zoomed over their heads, each gone in a flash. They were followed by a few American jets which roared past, slow in comparison. 

A passing pickup with huge tires screeched to a halt, James quickly loaded the family into the truck. He slipped the wad of money into the father’s coat pocket. They tried to pull him in, but he refused and they sped away.

A few more space ships zipped low overhead as he jogged back to the camaro. They flew so fast he just saw a blue-gray blur. He wasn’t positive that they weren’t Hydra technology, but they were beyond anything that he ever saw at Hydra. 

The roads were mostly empty, and he could really test the limits of the car. The car easily took on stretches at well over one hundred miles an hour. As he neared DC, he came across a few burnt fields, a long stretch of blackened charred forest, and one bridge that had an eight foot chunk taken out of the side. It was still standing, and he risked it.

The ground shook more often now. He was taking a tight corner fast when the ground shook, spinning him around a few times. He was left in a field facing the wrong direction. As he sat getting his bearings, the rearview mirror showed a large metal ship slowly approached over the horizon. Turning to look, he saw it had what looked like a searchlight aimed at the ground. The earth at the bottom of the light was burning. Trees, farmhouses, cars, everything was just an ember the minute the light hit it. Small trees simply disappeared in a puff of ash. Larger objects like houses, left a footprint, but not mush else. 

This was it. He realized he had no way to get onto the ship. He had no way onto the small fast ships either. He had raced back into the fight to find himself helpless. 

It’s a beautiful day with small puffs of white clouds. The sky was bright and blue, cut in half by a column of black smoke and ash. As he watched, a few more small ships rocketed past, beyond the horizon in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning hit the big ship, sending it careening down towards James. The side of the mammoth ship rammed itself into the earth, snapping in half. A ball of flame shot from the broken gaping hole. The ship crumpled on itself, and James could feel the heat from the fireball as smoke rolled towards the sky. 

Six more small ships were racing overhead, when a bolt of lightning hit. They all spun wildly ramming themselves into the earth. Four exploded instantly, one broke into pieces, and one landed mostly whole. James turned the car and raced towards the one that landed whole. 

A dazed alien dragged itself from the ship, stumbling away from the wreckage. James hit him with the Camaro. Hard. The bulky insect shaped alien left a big dent, and his engine was smoking.

It was a nice car while it lasted.

James grabbed his bag and jumped into the alien ship. Within minutes he figured out how to get it off the ground. It limped along, one engine was dead, but it flew. He flew around trying to get his bearings, then remembered the shoebox. He landed next to the car. The alien looked dead, but he still didn't want to get close to it. He grabbed the shoebox and flew away in the alien ship.


	2. Chapter 2

The cockpit of the ship was made for an alien creature much bigger than James. The seat tipped him back into an awkward angle. Two banks of switches were completely out of his reach. The basic controls though, were right in front of him. He had flown aircraft from over a dozen different countries, he could fly this too. It took about fifteen minutes of trial and error for James to figure out enough to get the thing moving. Before long, James had the alien ship flying almost as fast as a Quinjet. He would bet this was only about one quarter speed. The cockpit was strangely laid out, and wasn’t sure he could control it if he tried to go any faster. This was fast enough. He raced across the sky, over a busy highway. 

Both sides of the highway were getting people out of metropolitan DC. The inbound lanes had been converted into outbound, and still it was a sea of cars. The countryside had been mostly barren, but the people fleeing the city were still on the major highways.

The city was still quite a distance away, but he was moving fast. He took the ship up higher, until he could see further out. He could see the bright flashes of battle and more big ships off in the distance. A Helicarrier was in flames. It was still aloft, and aliens and quintets swarmed it like flies. Three big alien ships moved together, side by side. They were getting in position for something. Small ships like the one he was flying, occasionally zoomed from their underbelly. Usually in groups of four. Maybe he could sneak into the belly of one of the big ships. 

He was on his own, in a damaged ship. Brute force was not an option. He would need to be subtle. A ghost. He smiled. It had been a while, but he was good at this. Kill them before they knew he was even there. He felt a weight lift inside his chest. He could die this way. It wouldn’t be a cowards way out. It would even the score. James would fight to save one of the cities he almost destroyed.

He found the battle raging as he got closer to the big ships. He observed the enemy fighting style as he flew an arc around the battle. Within minutes he was confident he could blend in. He slipped seamlessly into a group of two ships. They most likely lost the other two. Whenever they approached a target, he fired when they fired. He tried to make sure the target was clear of friendlies when he pulled the trigger, but he needed to fire or they would be suspicious. 

These aliens were good. He was actually impressed with the cohesion, and coverage. James was having to work to keep up. One particularly fast run had him scrambling to pull up before he rammed right into a building. He broke formation for a couple of minutes, and was thankful for the big puff of smoke that came out of his damaged engine as he attempted to rejoin the formation. Lord forbid a bunch of freaky looking aliens think his flying skills were sub par. He laughed out loud and was relieved that they would blame it on the busted up ship. 

The air inside the ship was stifling, and he was soaked in sweat. He wasn’t sure if this was the way it was supposed to be, but maybe the aliens liked it hot. The more he fired the hotter the ship got. He kept hoping it wasn’t going to overheat and blow before he got inside one of the big ships.

Rounding a building, his squadron fired at the base of a skyscraper, bringing the whole building down. As they pulled away, James saw him. The archer Hawkeye was sitting on top of one of the buildings they were heading towards. James’ alien squadron was about to take him out. Hawkeye however, had other ideas. He put an arrow into the engine of the ship to the right of James. It’s engine blew, and James had to pull up hard not to be taken out by the spinning ship. The remaining ship fired continuously on the spot where the archer was last seen. James hoped Hawkeye leapt clear. The top of that building was smoking rubble in seconds. 

Taking the chance to break away, James headed for the landing deck in the belly of one of the big ships. He flew in with no resistance at all. 

It was beautiful. He flew right over crews reloading, aliens scurrying, and rows of shiny new alien spaceships, ready to be sent in as reinforcements. Approaching the back, he saw what looked like the center of a supply hub. Thick yellow hoses were pumping something to each of the ships as they landed. The hoses all came from a central tank of sloshing, glowing, yellow fluid. 

He flew over the tank, slowly turned, and began to fly back out. On the way out, he sighted in his rear guns and let loose. 

The hub blew with a bright yellow light and a deafening hum.

The explosion hurtled his ship out the opening faster than he could control it. He grappled with the controls, pulling up as the explosion behind was pushing him straight into a shiny high-rise building. He couldn’t fight the forward momentum, and it pushed his ship right through the glass. His ship hurtled along through offices, smashing desks and partitions. The office furniture all splintered under the alien ship’s metal hull. The ship came to a halt on it’s belly, tilted to the side with a crumpled wing tip. 

Thankfully, the employees were all gone, and he sat alone in the smoking wreckage. After taking a deep breath, James tested out each of the engines in turn. He lost one more engine on the other side. When he finally got the thing aloft, it flew almost as good as before. Slower, but still responsive. 

James flew right out the other side of the building. Smashing through the glass, he came out to chaos. The big mother-ship was now lying on it’s belly imploding on itself. A weird orange glow came from the middle, as it collapsed, and crumbled. Some of the small alien ships flew in circles around it. 

Lightning flashed nearby and a group of small ships exploded. It flashed again three times in succession, and he knew he had to get out of there. He had more mother-ships to take care of. 

As he approached the next mother-ship, he saw the Hulk standing on a nearby rooftop smashing a bunch of small alien ships. If he had any sense, the Hulk would smash the big ship. That would stop all of this chaos pretty quickly. 

Captain America should lead his team better. They seemed to lack focus and cohesion. Usually the news showed the Captain in the thick of the battles giving orders. This time, he was nowhere to be seen. Staying clear of the Hulk, James flew up over him towards the opening in the next mother-ship. 

When something works, try it again. Sometimes it’s a good motto to live by. He was already close enough, he didn’t think he needed to use another alien squads as cover. Everything seemed in chaos anyways. James just aimed his ship at the opening of the big ship and headed in. 

As he approached the opening, two squads raced out, almost running into him. James dipped down and continued his slow flight to the opening. The two squads didn’t continue out into the fight. Instead, they flew a pattern that swirled them around and suddenly they were following James.

His ship stood no chance against eight fully operable alien ships with experienced pilots. He barely knew what most of the things in the cockpit did. Pushing the ship into a sudden drop, he headed straight at the Hulk. James opened fire at the Hulk, then pulled up straight. The rounds all hit the Hulk. Most, hit him right in the face. After the dust cleared, the Hulk roared and smashed his fist into the roof he was standing on. Hulk wasn’t injured, but he was sure mad. The Hulk grabbed a nearby piece of alien wreckage, and threw it straight at the group of alien ships following James. Two were hit. One exploded and the other spun away, smashing into the ground. 

The Hulk then leapt straight at the alien ships and grabbed one taking it down with him. Huge hands crumpled the ship into a ball and threw it at James. It barely missed, slamming into the side of the mother ship and exploding. The solid exterior of the mother ship was un-dented, marred only by a black scorch mark. 

Behind James, the Hulk followed and leapt, snatching ships from the air. He smashed each of the ships in his bare hands. James left the Hulk behind on one of the rooftops as he sped towards the opening in the mother-ship again. 

Nearing the mother-ship, James turned into the opening and tried to find the central hub. As he looked around, the Hulk bounded into the opening. He roared and ran straight at James. James tried to pull up, but the Hulk jumped up and grabbed a wing. It was damaged from the crash earlier and easily tore off. The Hulk tumbled back down to the deck, then leapt again. James ship had begun to spin, and Hulk caught a hold of it this time. When he landed back on the deck he crushed the ship. It crumpled like paper in his big hands. The screen in front of James shattered, crumbling away in a shower of amber glass. The controls blinked, sparked, then folded inwards.

James felt his left leg being crushed along with the metal as the ship collapsed around him. The Hulk turned, and threw the ship out the opening of the mother-ship into the sky. James closed his eyes. The world tumbled round and round, as the ship hurtled through the sky. 

There was no way out. The ship was nothing more than a ball of metal, no engines, no wings, and James’ leg was crushed into the wreckage.

Unable to track anything, the sky and ground spun past him over and over. Finally, the ship jolted. He felt it hit a rooftop, tumble across, then fall off the other side. It landed on a lower rooftop still rolling, to come to rest next to an industrial air-conditioning unit. 

The ship was hissing and smoking. James slumped against the side. He just needed to lie still, while the world still spun, but he didn’t think he had time for that. He almost wished he had passed out. Everything hurt. Leaning forward, he used his metal hand to bend the twisted dash away from his leg. After pulling the bloody misshapen limb free, he crawled from the wreckage. After about ten feet, he slumped, then rolled onto his back, staring at the sky. 

A shadow came across his vision. 

It was the Hulk, who roared and smashed two huge air-conditioner units on the roof of the other building. He easily jumped across, and ran right at James. With one huge hand, Hulk grabbed James by the front of his jacket, lifted him in the air and roared into his face. Then, grabbing the cybernetic arm, he crushed the metal in his fist with a spray of sparks.

James may have passed out for a while. He wasn’t sure. He came back to himself a few times, and things were still bleak. Explosions, lightning, and someone roughly moving him around. Sometimes, it wasn’t worth it to come back. Then he heard him. He heard Steve’s voice, but Steve wasn’t there. It was a radio. He saw red hair. Someone was leaning over him. Natasha, he remembered her from the red room. He remembered many things about her, some unpleasant, some very pleasant. Steve was saying something about breaching the enemy carrier. What carrier? Did he mean the big mother-ships? 

Looking at Natasha he opened his mouth to ask, but before he could, she said “Who are you working for?” 

James didn’t answer, he just rolled onto his side and threw up.


	3. Chapter 3

Lying in bed with his headphones on, Steve listened to music and tried not to watch the news. He could hear the anchors over the music, but tried not to pay too much attention. Sam told him he was grounded. Still, Steve kept the news on in case the team needed him. He wasn’t sure what he could actually do, but he needed to know they were all right.

Carefully, he leaned over to get a glass of water. The room began a slow spin again. Gingerly he sipped at the water then set the glass down and rolled onto his back. He hoped he wouldn’t get nauseous again. He hated that. 

Closing his eyes Steve concentrated on the music. The scroll at the bottom of the screen had started the list of cities, and the damage they incurred. He wanted to see the list, needing to know if there were any additions. He felt guilty lying here safe in Stark Tower. Whole cities were in danger of being crushed under tons of wreckage or blasted from existence by alien death rays. 

He hated alien death rays.

Steve also hated being out of the action. He hated feeling useless. 

Hours ago, in the middle of the action, Steve was with Thor and Tony when he took a hit to the head. Steve was still a little fuzzy on the details, but when he woke, the Alien carrier had been destroyed, and Sam had grounded him to sit the rest of the fight out. Maria Hill added insult to injury and removed his communication device. Steve was stuck watching the fight on TV like a civilian. 

Steve was tucked away in a tower hundreds of miles from the fight. Tony locked him out, and wouldn’t even let him listen to the battle feed. Steve noted that CNN’s coverage was actually pretty impressive. Their helicopter was equipped with a lens that brought the fight right into his bedroom. They had some amazing close-up shots, and followed Hulk like he was George Clooney at the Oscars. Steve sometimes had trouble figuring out Nat and Barton’s location. Thor could be found by following the lightning flashes. Sam stood out, as he zoomed through the sky. Tony however, was spending more and more of the battle in space. Fighting the Aliens before they even hit the atmosphere. 

But, while Tony being in space was saving cities from burning debris, he was not leading the team. 

When Tony dropped Steve off at the tower, he said that he would hold the team together. Steve doubts Tony actually said anything to the team, since they look like they are all fighting their own battles. Steve tried to get word to Tony that if he has to be in space, let Nat lead the team. Someone needs to be eyes on the ground and in charge. Steve was reduced to trying to call them on the phone. The only one who answered was Hill, and after listening for a few seconds, just tells Steve to rest and the team will be fine without him for one day. 

Steve tried to force himself to relax. Breathe in counting to four. Hold, then breathe out counting to eight. He kept going for a few minutes. Tony would save the day, Steve kept telling himself. He already saved millions of people. 

The Stark Interplanetary Detection Program spotted the Alien fleet hours before their arrival. The evacuation of the projected target area reduced the death toll from millions to less than a hundred. Steve tried to continue his relaxing breaths. He could hear the news over his music, and tried to tune it out. 

Tony’s foresight had developed a weapon that allowed them to blow up two of the big alien ships before they even hit the Earth’s atmosphere. The fleet of six was already cut back by one third. Soon after, Thor took down another. Steve could sit this out. He wished he knew how to meditate, maybe he should turn the news off.

He propped himself up on some pillows as the room slowly spun a little. He felt much better than he had an hour ago. Steve had to admit Super Soldier healing was pretty awesome.

The TV showed how disjointed the fight was. Each Avenger was doing what they do best. Just, none of them were working together. Hulk is all over the place, jumping from rooftops to street level, smashing alien fighter ships one after another. This fight would be over so much quicker if the Hulk concentrated on destroying the Alien Aircraft Carriers. The little ships would have nowhere to re-supply. Steve could see them constantly flying in and out. The little ships did a lot of damage, but they needed the big ships to function. For a smart guy, Bruce gets swallowed up in the rage of the Hulk. He let the little ships annoy him into chasing them as they swarm the city.

Suddenly, the coverage shifts as one of the Alien Aircraft Carriers has an explosion inside the hanger bay. A bright yellow light comes from the hanger opening and the ship drifts down, crashing and crumbling. Steve struggles to figure out which Avenger brought the Carrier down. He knows where each Avenger is, and none of them are in position to have done it.

Steve sits up straighter, and takes off the headphones. Soon, he notices an Alien Fighter jet is being chased out of one of the carriers with a trail of Alien jets on it’s heel. The fighter has smoke rolling from its engines. It must be a friendly. Maybe a SHIELD agent managed to get inside one of the Alien Fighters. 

Steve smiles, that guy deserves a medal. That smoking Trojan horse probably took down that whole carrier by himself. Steve tells the computer to replay the explosion, and sure enough there comes Smokey, being blown out of the mouth right as the carrier belches yellow light. As the replay is being shown on one screen, simultaneously Steve sees that the Alien Fighters are closing in on the slow smoking ship. 

Steve tries his com unit again. He hit’s the emergency beacon, “Get Thor to protect the damaged ship, He’s the closest.” He says pointing to the smoking Fighter as if they can see him. Actually Hulk is closest, but protecting things isn’t one of his strengths. Steve thinks, maybe he should have Hulk smash the ships around it. As if it read his mind, the Smoking ship drops down opening fire on the Hulk, then heads straight back to the carrier. 

Natasha. Steve tries to remember when he saw her last. Could she be the one piloting the ship? Is she trying to get Hulk to focus on the big picture and destroy the carrier? He knew he saw her somewhere near the Hulk. Relieved, Steve is sure she can handle this. 

The plan works, Hulk chases the Fighter onto the Carrier and soon it is also crashing down to the ground. Right before the Carrier began to crash, a crushed Fighter was tossed out the opening on the big ship. The ball of crushed metal skidded and tumbled across a couple of tall rooftops before rolling to a stop. 

Steve jumped up fumbling for his phone. Was that Nat? The ships all looked similar, but this ball of metal had the crumpled wingtip the smoking Fighter had. He knew the Hulk wouldn’t stop. He would be after that crumpled fighter, and he was going to kill whoever the pilot was. If they weren’t already dead. Steve felt a little sick.

He needed to help, warn somebody that Natasha was in danger. The call went straight to voicemail when Steve tried Hill. Steve also left a message for Tony, as he stumbled up the stairs racing to the helipad. A quinjet with Stark upgrades sat next to a vintage helicopter. In seconds, the quinjet streaked across the sky. Steve put the engines on full and hoped he would make it there in time. 

He sent messages to each of the Avengers during his flight, hoping and praying that someone would save the pilot. Not just for the pilot’s sake. As his friend, Steve didn’t want Bruce to have that on his conscience, even if it turned out not to be Natasha. 

The quintet’s high tech monitors zoomed in on the fight. The Hulk was already on the rooftop with someone dangling from his fist when Steve approached the city. Steve was still at least two minutes out, but just in time to get a clear view of Hulk crushing Bucky’s metal arm. Bucky screamed and then slumped in Hulk’s fist. Natasha was running towards them, she must have gotten Steve’s message. 

Hulk lost interest in Bucky as soon as he was unconscious, dropping him onto the roof, and bounding away towards more aliens. Steve wanted to stay and help Bucky, but there was still another Alien Carrier and a million fighters they needed to stop. Natasha radioed the quinjet that she had the situation under control, and Steve thanked her then headed back into the fight. 

It took less than a half hour to get the last Alien Carrier down. The cleanup of the Alien Fighter jets was delegated to Tony, Thor, and Lt. Col. Rhodes. Hill’s people and the military were helping out with civilian aid and evacuation. 

When Steve landed, he found Sam helping Natasha get Bucky stabilized. It was worse than Steve had thought. Steve could tell by Sam’s demeanor, all business, no jokes. 

Natasha was putting pressure on part of Bucky’s leg when Sam waved Steve closer “If you have some things to tell him, now might be a good time.” 

Steve looked at Sam “What?” he said tilting his head, but kneeling next to Bucky the same time.

Sam put his hand on Steve’s arm, “He’s not too lucid.” Sam said “but he might hear you.” Steve saw that Bucky’s eyes were half closed, mostly whites showing. 

Sam let go of Steve and continued to work. 

Steve moved closer to Bucky, gently holding his right hand. “Hey Buck, I hear you have Super Soldier Serum in your veins. It’s just a busted leg, big guy. You had a couple of those before the serum. No big deal. ” Steve looked Bucky over while he talked. He could tell it was more than just a busted leg. Sam had hooked up an IV, and they were about to load Bucky onto a stretcher. Steve shifted aside as they put a big foamy collar around Bucky’s neck. Bucky had blood streaked through his long hair, and his right eye was swelling shut. 

As they shifted Bucky around, he let out a low soft moan, and clutched Steve’s hand when Steve tried to pull away to give the medics room. Moving with the stretcher, and not releasing Bucky’s hand, Steve followed the medical crew onto the same quinjet Steve arrived in. 

Once they secured the stretcher into place, the quinjet was airborne with Natasha behind the controls. Bucky’s hand had become limp as they came up the ramp onto the quinjet. Steve stared at Bucky’s pale damp face, eyes closed and bruised, but breathing. Steve looked at Sam who looked glum while attaching monitors to Bucky. The metal left arm was still attached, but the middle had been squeezed and everything from bicep to forearm was twisted and mauled. Steve could see crushed inner workings and shattered components. Twisted plates that once covered the arm, now hung clumped together. Sam shifted the arm around and Steve saw that there wasn’t much connecting the wrist and hand to the arm. They seemed to move separately, held together by a few scraps. 

Steve was afraid to look at Bucky’s leg. That almost looked as bad as his arm, but with a lot more blood. Sam had already cut away the pant leg and boot. Bucky still wore a bloody sock. Like the arm, it looked like most of the damage was to the middle of Bucky’s leg. The leg was heavily bandaged, and Steve couldn’t see the extent of the damage. Sam was wrapping a temporary binding over the bandages, splinting it from hip to ankle. Steve envisioned the leg in the same condition as the metal arm. He prayed it wasn’t as bad, but he hadn’t gotten a good look before they bandaged it.

Sam looked up and squinted at him. “You okay over there Rogers?” Sam leaned over and touched a medic on the shoulder. “Get the Captain some water” 

As she moved away, Sam said to Steve “You don’t look so hot. How’s your head?” 

Steve had forgotten to be dizzy. “I’m fine.” he said running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t look fine.” Sam said, then shifted aside to let Steve take the water from the medic “I don’t want to have to carry you again. Twice in one day is more than my poor back can take.” 

Steve shook his head “You don’t have to worry about me.” he said, then they both turned when Bucky suddenly made a strange deep gurgling intake of air, then stopped breathing.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam quickly moved to grab a resuscitator mask and began puffing breaths into Bucky with the bag. Steve held his breath. After a minute, Bucky began to cough and breathe on his own again. His eyelids fluttered, trying to open. Sam backed off, watching. Bucky’s good leg moved, and the metallic arm hummed while the upper arm shifted. His hand limply tumbled off the side of the stretcher and Sam caught it, tucked it back.

When Bucky’s eyes finally opened, he blearily looked up at Sam. After a few seconds, he seemed to focus. Bucky’s eyes widened and he started to struggle. Sam put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, holding him down, while the medic moved in with a vial of sedative. Twisting away, Bucky shoved Sam back and he went flying. Bucky then kicked out, sending the medic slamming into the far wall. Steve jumped in front of Bucky to hold his shoulders down, but Bucky brought his knee up, sending Steve tumbling. 

Bucky rolled off the bed, and leapt for the hatch, snatching a parachute on the way out. In an instant he was gone. 

Steve scrambled towards the open door, just in time to watch Bucky strap a parachute on one-handed and midair. It deployed just in time for a hard landing. Steve saw Bucky crash down into a densely wooded park. Sam came up behind Steve, looking out he said. “Is he gonna run on a broken leg? How is that possible?”

Natasha brought the quinjet around over the area, and when they were close enough, Steve said “Let me handle this.” and jumped. 

When he rolled to a stop, Steve stood and ran in the direction of Bucky’s parachute. The fabric billowed and curled, still tangled high in a tree. The cords were all cut and blowing gently in the breeze. Steve ran up under the parachute and found a bloody smudge and boot-print where Bucky landed when he cut the cords. 

Steve slowly turned a circle, trying to figure out what direction Bucky went. Even injured, he didn’t leave much of a clue. Steve froze and listened. It wasn’t what he heard, but what he couldn’t hear. His enhanced hearing could tell which side the birds had stopped chirping. Steve ran that way, still searching for clues. After going about 40 yards, he stopped and listened again. This time he faintly heard a harsh intake of breath as Bucky tried to get away through the dense brush. 

Sprinting through the woods Steve came across a bright bloody handprint on a tree, and some damaged brush as Bucky made his way to escape. Steve figured the initial adrenaline must be wearing off, Bucky was getting tired and careless. 

Running through the forest, Steve stopped a few more times to see if he could hear anything, and came up empty handed. Frowning, Steve stopped and looked back. Suddenly, he realized Bucky had tricked him into thinking he was headed this way. Even the loud breathing was to lead Steve to the stupid handprint. When he reached the bloody handprint this time, he slowly walked a circle around it. The damaged brush led off to the east, deeper into the forest. To the west, Steve could see a clear hiking trail, something that he would think Bucky would not take. But this trail would allow Bucky to move quickly with an injured leg. Steve ran down the trail, and eventually came across a drop of fresh blood. 

The trail came out into a suburban neighborhood. It had been evacuated and there were about a million options for Bucky to take. Bucky delayed Steve long enough to get a good head start. Steve stopped and focused, listening, watching for a sign. He slowly walked down the street looking at every door and window for signs of forced entry, looking for clues in the eerily quiet street. 

Steve knew he was here. Bucky was running on adrenaline, but his injuries would be slowing him. Even a super soldier would need to stop and rest. Bucky probably hoped he tricked Steve into going the wrong way, and would be able to vanish again. Steve stood at a corner, and quietly scanned the area.

The lack of any human created noise was unsettling. Steve saw a cat dart under a porch. It was left behind, still waiting for the people to come back. Birds chirped and leaves rustled in the breeze. Off in the distance a dog barked.

Steve slowly made his way down the street listening, but mostly watching. It was an older neighborhood, the houses looked loved, with neatly cut shrubs in beds. Bird feeders and bird baths decorated front yards. More than one flag rustled and snapped in the cold breeze. 

Approaching a white house with rocking chairs on the porch, Steve heard a heat pump turn on by the side of the house. He turned towards the sound and saw that someone had recently opened the basement window. The cobwebs had been torn, and fluttered loosely as something or someone slid through the window. 

Steve waited outside the house listening, and carefully moving closer. He looked in the windows, but wasn’t surprised to see nothing but an empty house. The bathroom window was elevated. Steve gently and quietly hoisted himself onto the top of the neighbor’s shed. He could see inside, and the medicine cabinet was open. In the mirror’s reflection, Steve could see part of Bucky’s outstretched broken leg. 

Slowly and gently, Steve lowered himself back down to the ground. He thought about trying to sneak in through the windows on the far side of the house, but decided against it. 

Outside the front door, Steve said “Hey, Buck. I’m coming in.” then shoved the door open.

Inside, Steve heard some rustling, then a quiet voice “Are you alone?”

Steve walked straight to the bathroom door, “Yeah. I’m alone. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Steve said, while slowly pushing the door back.

Bucky was sitting with his back to the wall. His legs were straight out in front of him, and the tub was along his right side. The broken leg was still in it’s splint, but the blood had soaked through in spots. Bucky’s jacket was zipped halfway up and the crushed metal arm was tucked into the jacket front. His other arm lie limp in his lap.

Bucky just sat with his head tipped back and eyes closed. His breathing was loud in the quiet room. He didn’t respond to Steve. 

Steve was about to speak again when Bucky spoke “Are you here to arrest me?” he said without opening his eyes.

“What?” Steve was surprised “No. But, Jesus, you have a broken arm and leg Buck. We need to get you to a hospital.” He said moving closer into the room.

“No” Bucky said “They’ll put me in prison. I won’t be locked up again.”

“No one is going to lock you up..” Steve started to say

“Bullshit” Bucky cut him off. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Don’t lie to me.” Bucky opened his eyes now, looking right at Steve. “If you turn me in, I go to prison. Is that what you want?”

Steve stammered “No, no Buck. I don’t think you belong in prison.”

“I didn’t say I don’t belong in prison. I said I’m not gonna get locked up again.” Bucky’s blue eyes didn’t waver “Not even by you.”

“You need a doctor Buck.” Steve said, slowly lowering himself to sit on the floor across from Bucky. “Just look at yourself”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse. I just gotta rest.” Bucky said, and he tipped his head back and closed his eyes again.

“Bucky, you stopped breathing less than an hour ago.” Steve pleaded.

Eyes still closed Bucky said “I’m breathing fine now. Steve, I just need a minute.” 

“A minute to what? Bleed to death? Your leg has soaked through the bandage. You are as white as a sheet…”

“Shut Up!” Bucky yelled. He lifted his head up and glared at Steve “Just Shut Up, and give me a minute. It will heal. It always heals.”

“Have you been hurt like this before? A broken leg this bad?”

“Yeah. It’ll be fine. I just need to lie still a minute.”

“But, It’s not set.” Steve pressed.

“I set it before you got here.”

Steve’s mouth turned down. He growled “Did you? Is it going to heal twisted? Is that what you want?”

“Do I have to tell you to shut up again?”

Steve stewed silently for about five minutes. He looked Bucky over for signs of other injuries. The black eye seemed to be healing already, the swelling had gone down, and the dark color fading. There was still blood streaked in his dark hair, but the small cuts on his forehead had already closed. 

Bucky’s head lolled towards the corner and his breathing became deep as he fell asleep. His face became slack and his jaw dropped open a little. Steve stared at the thick beard. Bucky didn’t look the way Steve remembered him, he didn’t look like the Winter Soldier either. Steve wondered if Bucky was living on the street. The plain clothes were chosen to blend in, not stand out. Dark jacket, jeans and tan work boots. 

Muddy jeans and boots. Steve squinted at the mud and wondered how Bucky got that way. Suddenly Bucky twitched and woke himself up. Scanning the room, his eyes locked in on Steve immediately as he sat up. 

“Did I fall asleep?” he asked

“Only for a couple of minutes.” Steve replied.

Bucky’s head tipped back again, “You gonna stare at me while I sleep?”

“You said shut up. You didn’t say don’t stare.”

“It’s creepy.” Bucky said, breathing heavily again.

“Have you been injured like this before?”

“It’s been a long time, but yeah. They did tests. Tried to see what heals and what doesn’t.”

“Jesus Buck.”

“Everything heals. Give it enough time.”

Steve doubted everything heals. But, he could give Bucky some time, he owed him that much. So Steve waited. He sat and stared, and half hoped he actually was being creepy, but Bucky fell asleep again in just minutes, so his efforts felt wasted. 

After a while Bucky mumbled “Stop staring..” then everything was silent again except for the sound of their breathing.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve just sat, waited, and stared at Bucky. He was sitting on the floor of a stranger’s bathroom, what else was there to do. 

The room was silent again, and Bucky drifted off to sleep. Steve worried about how pale and clammy Bucky looked. Slipping out, Steve went into a bedroom and came back with a blanket and a pillow. Carefully, he slid the pillow under Bucky’s broken leg. Bucky didn’t wake, just grumbled some half words, and shifted around. The splint on the leg still looked undamaged, which was surprising given the rough treatment it had been through. Bucky’s leg inside the splint was another matter. Draping the blanket over Bucky, Steve wondered if he should bring him to the bed instead. It can’t be comfortable, sleeping sitting up on a tiled floor while jammed into a corner.

Steve would suggest it when he woke. Bucky would probably say no.

Every fifteen minutes or so, Bucky’s eyes would flutter open, land on Steve then slide closed again. It wasn’t till the second time this happened that he noticed the blanket. His eyes darted down and his hand twitched, pushing the blanket down. Bucky scowled, looked back up at Steve, then sighed and closed his eyes again. He was asleep immediately after, and the next few times he woke, he didn’t seem bothered by the blanket. 

Over an hour later when Bucky cracked open his eyes, Steve was sitting there eating a sandwich. Eyes widening, Bucky looked at the sandwich then at the plate of them next to Steve. 

“Want one?” Steve offered, holding out the plate.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky took one and began to wolf it down. It was a slightly sloppy process one handed. Some of the lettuce and a pickle escaped and landed on the blanket. The soft white bread crumbled apart and ended up in his beard. 

Steve stared at the bread then gestured at his chin “You, uh, you got some bread in your beard.”

Bucky just shrugged. When he finished the sandwich, he ate the lettuce and pickle off the blanket while Steve held out the next one for him to take. Eating the second sandwich with the same gusto, Bucky added some mustard to his cheek. Steve held out a bottle of Pepsi. Bucky took it and removed the plastic cap with his teeth. Steve cringed when he realized he handed it to him with the cap still on. 

“You have some mustard on your cheek.” Steve said, while Bucky chugged the soda.

When he finally lowered the plastic bottle, Bucky swiped the back of his hand over the mustard, smearing it further out. “You can give me a list when I’m done.” he said while reaching out to take the next sandwich.

Realizing that pointing out food on Bucky’s face was a little silly considering the guy still had blood streaked in his hair, and chunks of dried mud falling off his boot and pants. Steve stared at the red clay chunks. 

“You gonna tell me to clean the bathroom when we’re done?” Bucky asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

“What? No, I, I was just thinking.” Steve said looking back up at Bucky.

“Thinking about telling me I’m getting dirt on their floor.” he grumbled.

“How did you get so much dirt on you?”

Bucky paused “At work.”

Steve’s eyes widened “You work?” he said.

Bucky threw the sandwich down. “Yes I work. I work a real job and pay my own way. I’m not a hit man, If that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“No, No. I wasn’t thinking you were out there killing people. I know Hydra made you do that, I understand what happened.”

Bucky cut him off by kicking the plate of sandwiches with his good foot. “You don’t know shit.” He fumed. Then kicked Steve in the knee. 

Steve jumped up, his knee stung but Bucky hadn’t put too much force behind the kick. 

“Get out.” Bucky growled.

“Hold on Buck. I’ll go, but we should move you to the bed. Get a look at your injuries. Check your leg..” 

“No.” Bucky said low “I wouldn’t want to get dirt on their bed. Just go.” he said and threw the empty Pepsi bottle at Steve. 

Ducking the bottle, Steve stepped back out into the hall. The bottle bounced off the doorframe and clattered to the floor. Steve sighed and leaned back against the wall next to the bathroom door. The family had pictures of their two dogs on the wall. It felt like the eyes of the two brown labs were staring at him, as he slid down and sat next to the door.

Steve’s commo had a light on. “I’m gonna radio out and tell people I’m okay.” he yelled at Bucky.

“Fine. Just tell them not to come in here.” he hollered back. Then there was some rustling from the bathroom, followed by the sound of Bucky hopping. The water ran in the sink for a minute of two and there was some splashing.

Steve paused with his hand on the commo, “You washing up or still thirsty? I can get you another drink if you want one.” He said looking up at the empty doorway.

“Yeah, get me another drink. Something less bubbly this time.” he said. Then, after a pause “Unless they have beer.” 

Steve had already started down the hall. Bucky yelled again “Did you hear me? If they have beer, bring me a couple of those.”

“Yeah, Yeah. I heard you. Super Soldier hearing remember.” Steve hollered back. Then turned on his commo and quietly said “ Situation under control. No assistance needed.”

The commo blinked and the screen said “Civilian population expected to be allowed to return 0800 tomorrow.” 

“Copy. Out.” Steve responded. Then looked in the fridge, but only found peach beer.

“They only have peach.” Steve yelled.

“Fruit?” Bucky yelled across the house.

“Beer.” Steve yelled back.

“Beer?”

“Beer.” 

Bucky sighed “Bring me water,” he grumbled.

Steve came back with another Pepsi and a glass of water. Bucky was slumped, sitting on top of the closed toilet and had his broken leg stretched out in front of him. The splint and bandages were in a bloody pile on the floor. He looked pale and pained. The leg was a mess of nasty, scabs and bruises, but nothing was actively dripping blood. Steve doubted the bone had been set. Sam just stabilized it with the intent of bringing Bucky to a hospital. 

Steve stood in the doorway for a minute, and when Bucky glanced back up he sighed. “You gotta set it.” he said. 

Setting the water and soda on the counter, Steve knelt in front of Bucky. Leaning forward, Bucky pointed to an area on his shin with a dark purple bruise flanked by a couple of nasty cuts that were scabbed over. “In here, Something’s not right in here.” he said.

Steve leaned in and put his hands on the side of Buckys leg. It was warm, and sticky with drying blood. “On three, okay? Ill pull down gently on three.” They locked eyes and Bucky nodded.

“One, Two,” Steve pulled straight down gently, and Bucky blew a breath out of his nose, eyes wide. “Three.” he said but he was done. “Better?” he asked.

Bucky gave a nod, and pointed at the splint. Steve grabbed a towel and wiped some of the blood out of the splint, then wet the towel and cleaned up Bucky’s leg before putting the splint back on. Bucky just sat there and watched, eyes glazed and unfocused.

Soon, Steve was done. He sat back on his heels and looked up at Bucky. “You should move to the bed. You’ll be more comfortable.”

Bucky looked out the door and nodded yes, not meeting Steve’s eyes. Steve took Bucky’s good arm and tried to help him stand. Once on his feet, Steve helped him hop toward the bedroom. The fight had seemed to go out of Bucky, and he just followed Steve’s lead. Carefully, Steve lowered Bucky to sit on the bed. He put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and made him lie back. Steve then lifted Bucky’s legs into the bed, and elevated the broken one. Bucky just closed his eyes and let Steve move him.

“Um. Buck?” Steve asked, and Bucky finally looked up at him. “Is there something we should do about the arm?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”

Bucky stretched his neck, turning his head at an angle until there was a click. “Yeah, I guess we should look at that too.” he said quietly. 

Reaching across with his right hand, Bucky carefully pulled the left wrist from his jacket front where it was tucked in. The sleeve had been cut away from the area above the elbow. The shoulder and upper arm was intact, but everything below was a mess, until you reached Bucky’s wrist, then it looked whole again. This was really a job for Tony. Steve was out of his league here and he knew it. From the way Bucky was blearily looking up at him, he wasn’t going to be much help.

“How much of this do you feel?” Steve asked. Running the tips of his fingers over some of the metal.

“All of it. It’s my arm.” He said then winced as Steve touched some of the exposed circuitry. “Don’t touch the inside stuff.”

“Sorry. It was on the outside.”

“Especially if it is on the outside.” Bucky breathed.

“How do we get it back on the inside?” Steve said gesturing at the mass of exposed circuitry. 

Taking a deep breath through his nose and closing his eyes. “We can leave it for now.”

“But you said you feel this.” Steve shook his head “And this, this has to feel horrible.”

“Do you know how to fix it?” Bucky snarled. Steve jerked back. “No? Well I don’t have the energy to mess with it. Just leave it.” Then he deflated, closing his eyes for a second. “I’ll try to fix it later.”

“Try?” Steve questioned. “I..I know someone who would be able to fix this.”

“Stark? Tony Stark?” Bucky arched his eyebrow, starting to sit up and looking right at Steve. “You said you didn’t think I belong in jail. I’m sure your buddy has a much different opinion.”

“I don’t think he holds it against you.”

“Then he is a much better man than I am. If I thought he killed my Mom and Pop, I would want him dead.” Bucky said lying back down. “No Stark. No one but you and me.” he paused looking Steve over. “Swear.” he said.

“What?”

“Swear. That you won’t bring anyone else here.”

“I, I swear.” Steve stammered.

“You better not be lying or I’m gonna kick your ass.” Bucky said closing his eyes, and throwing his good arm across his face. “Can you close a curtain or something. The sun is just beaming down on me.”

Standing, Steve said “Sure.” then walked over to try to figure out how to operate the layers of curtains. 

While he attempted to undo the curtain tie, Bucky just shook his head. “Pull the blind down. Your messing up the curtains.” Steve looked and saw there was a pull cord for the blinds. 

Bucky added, “You act like you were raised in a barn.” 

“We never had this many layers. What is all this stuff for?” Steve said as he lowered the blinds.

“Beats me, but you got it all tangled up. Turn on the TV, will ya?” Bucky said from under his arm.

“Sure.” Clicking it on, Steve asked, “What do you want to watch?”

“I’m gonna get some rest. You watch whatever you want, just quit staring at me.” 

“It’s not creepy by the way. I thought you were dead. And you look strange, with the beard and the hair.”

“What are you talking about? I should be the one staring.” Bucky’s arm lifted from his eyes and he peeked under, “I remember when I first saw you in the war, I couldn’t stop staring. It was so strange, it was you, but not in the right body.”

“You don’t think this is the right body?” Steve asked not sure if he should be insulted.

“It’s not the one I knew. Not the one you were born with. I couldn’t get a handle on it. I thought I was hallucinating.” Bucky rolled his head back to facing the ceiling, and closed his eyes. “Sometimes I dream I died on that table. And all this… is some kind of purgatory. I just have to figure out how to make it right.”

They both became silent. Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Instead he turned to the TV and put CNN on to see what was happening. Natasha was right, now that the aliens were gone, there was no reason to keep the undamaged areas evacuated. People would be returning to this area by morning. Steve needed a plan. 

Bucky slept for a few more hours, then woke starved. He inhaled everything Steve made, and four cans of soup. He was focused, and his color seemed to be returning. He was still pale, but not frighteningly so.

After eating the fourth can of soup, Bucky requested orange juice. “It helps get my blood sugar right after loosing so much blood.” he said, and Steve left the house in search of OJ.

As soon as Steve stepped back into the house, triumphant with OJ from the house next door, he realized he had been taken. The house was empty. Steve didn’t even need to look around. 

After straightening up and leaving a note of apology, Steve radioed Natasha for a ride.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve returned to his normal routine. Daily jogs with Sam, followed by more workouts, interspersed with fighting aliens, crazy cults, evil terrorists etc. Occasionally, he and Sam would catch a movie, to break up the monotony.

Mostly, he sat alone in his apartment and tried to draw, or paint, or read. More often than not, he just sat and stared out the window.

The one thing he didn’t do any more, and that freed up a lot of his time, was search for Bucky. It was over. Bucky was handling things on his own, he didn’t need Steve’s help. He made that clear.

Steve didn’t talk to Tony much. He felt guilty about the fact that he didn’t want to discuss Bucky’s role in Howard’s death. Steve was pretty sure Tony knew, but Steve was a coward about this, and didn’t bring it up. Steve stayed in DC and avoided New York. He told people he was staying where he was needed. Helping people rebuild their lives in the DC area.

It was just over two months from the day Bucky ditched Steve. Sam had an appointment and Steve ran alone. He was relaxed and happy after his run, taking the stairs at a quick pace. Steve walks into the apartment, and Bucky is sitting on the couch. His hair is all shoulder length, like he took a pony tail and lopped it off. Bucky’s stubble is a only few days old. He looks like he shaves again, just not every day. He is still pale, and his metal arm is in a sling. Bucky stands when Steve comes in. His leg must have healed fine.

Steve stops shocked, and says “Are you okay?” 

“What? Yeah. I’m..” He stammers looking out the window. “You have terrible locks, are you asking to be robbed?”

“Why are you here?” Steve asked, looking Bucky over. 

“Can’t I visit an old friend?” Bucky smirks

“Is that what this is?”

“No” he said guiltily.

“I’ll ask again. Are you okay?” Steve crossed his arms.

Bucky looked away, “I can’t find work with one arm. I’m tired of taking handouts.”

“Do you want me to call Tony?” Steve asked.

“Is he going to turn me in?”

Steve wasn’t sure, but he said “No”.

“No?” Bucky looked at Steve again. He narrowed his eyes and frowned, staring hard. “Steve, I’m not joking. I’m not going back to prison. I won’t let them take me.” he paused to let that sink in. “Make sure he’s not going to turn me in. I’ll come back in a few days, we can go over specifics then.”

Steve nodded guiltily, as Bucky walked out.

Steve sagged onto the couch. It wasn’t the reunion he expected. He wasn’t sure what he expected. 

After stewing for a while, Steve called Sam and Natasha. 

In Steve’s living room they brainstormed over Tony’s involvement. They came to the conclusion that the only way to know how Tony would react to this situation would be to ask him. 

Steve called Tony that afternoon. The conversation went better than Steve would have guessed. The subject of murder was dropped as soon as it was out of Steve’s mouth. Tony it seemed, couldn’t wait to see what sort of tech Bucky’s arm was made of. 

The next morning, Natasha showed up after Sam and Steve’s morning run. She had tracked Bucky down to a homeless shelter not far from Steve’s apartment. Steve’s heart sunk. She said he looked like he was physically fine, the shelter would make sure he would be fed, and clothed. There was a drastic surge in shelter use since the last alien attack, but he should be okay. 

Two hours of Steve’s morning were spent trying to read, making aborted sketches, and TV surfing, before he found himself taking a walk in the area near the shelter. He just wanted to see the condition of the shelter. If possible, see if the people were nice. He needed to be sure Bucky was safe. He knew rationally, that if anyone could take care of himself, it would be Bucky. The shelter workers might be actually scared of Bucky, if they knew what they had under their roof. 

The closer he got, the more he worried. He didn’t want to scare Bucky off, or make him leave. Steve just needed to see, and his emotions got the better of him sometimes. He adjusted his Washington Nationals cap, hoping the cap and plain jacket were enough of a disguise. Most adults only recognize him if he wears the uniform.

The shelter looked like all the other brick buildings on it’s street. It was next to a church, and had a sign over the door. On a bench out front, a couple of men were talking. Steve watched from the corner, three buildings away. A man was on a ladder fixing the gutter. The gutter had pulled away and disconnected from the downspout. The man easily climbed down using one arm. When he turned to go back in, Steve saw the handyman had his arm in a sling. It was Bucky, and he looked well. 

Steve wondered what made him think it was a good idea to fix gutters with one arm. The arm hung in the sling like dead weight. Steve wanted to go over there and stop him from going back up the ladder. It turned out he didn’t have to, Bucky and one the bald man from the bench folded up the ladder and Bucky went inside. 

Steve was about to leave, but Bucky quickly came down the front stairs, turned away from Steve, and walked down the sidewalk. Once Bucky was gone, Steve watched for another minute or two then wandered over to the front of the building.

One of the men on the bench was smoking and laughing. He looked up when Steve approached. When the bald man turned, Steve could see he was a priest. 

The priest stood and smiled as Steve came up to them. “Hello, I’m Father Vincent. How can I help you?” He said.

“Yeah, um, can I speak to you alone for a second.” Steve said

“Sure, we can walk. Is this your first time at a shelter?” 

“Yes, No. this isn’t about me. I’m asking for a friend.”

“Of course.” Father Vincent said nodding.

“No really, I have a friend who is staying here. I just want to make sure he’s doing okay.” Steve stammered out.

“We don’t give out information on our residents, but if you would like to leave your information I can have him contact you.”

This wasn’t going the way Steve hoped. “Oh, of course. I just wanted to make sure he’s okay. Bucky was always kind of proud.”

The priest seemed to understand. “Most of our residents are proud, but sometimes we all need a little help.”

“I saw him working on the gutters. Does he work here, or, is he staying here?” 

“Did you say you call him Bucky? Yes, he did offer to help fix the gutters. He volunteers and has been a great help keeping this place running.”

“Does he have another job?”

“Sorry, I can’t answer that.”

“Is he staying here, I mean does he sleep here?” 

“I can’t answer that either, but if you know of any assistance he is qualified to get, at any places like the VA for example, that would be a great help. Sometimes people are too proud to apply for benefits they have earned.”

From behind his back Steve heard someone clear their throat. Startled, Steve turned and saw Bucky.

Bucky did not look happy. “Can I have a word with you?”

Looking back and forth between the two of them, Father Vincent said “I will leave you two to discuss things.” and walked away.

“Why are you here?” Bucky whispered loudly. Anger made him louder than he intended, and he glanced around to see who was listening. “I told you I would be back in a few days. Jesus Steve, Why couldn’t you wait.”

Steve looked up at the brick building. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard you were at a homeless shelter.”

“Yeah, I saw the redhead sniffing around here.” he grumbled, then sighed. “I’m fine Steve. The shelter is nice, as a homeless shelter’s go.”

“Have you spent a lot of time in them?”

“No Steve, I got a condo on the beach. I’m gonna go all out and get a new Audi next week.” he said sarcastically raising an eyebrow. “Of course I’ve been in them. It’s either that or squat in some abandoned house. But, since I don’t want to get arrested, I live here. I told you I can’t find work with one arm. No one will hire me. Under the table work goes to the guy who can do the most work for the least money. They see the sling and it’s over.”

Steve stared at his shoes, then pulled out his wallet. “Here, please take it.” He said fishing out a wad of cash.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Put that away.” Bucky said, glancing around and stepping back.

Steve stepped towards him, pushing the money towards Bucky‘s hand. “Just take it.”

Narrowing his eyes and stepping back again “I told you no. Give it to the priest if you want to help somebody.” Turning away, Bucky walked back to the building “I have work to do. Go Home, Steve.” 

After Bucky disappeared through the big green doors of the shelter, Steve just stood there holding the money crumpled in his hand. The guy with the cigarette was still on the bench on the far side of the door. He sat watching Steve, and eyeing the cash. Sighing, Steve slid the money into his front pocket. A green door opened again and Steve perked up, hoping Bucky changed his mind. Instead, it was a middle aged black priest. 

He walked up to Steve and smiled. Extending his hand, he said. “Hello, I’m Father Nick. James said you had a donation you wanted to make to the shelter.”

Shaking the priest’s hand, Steve said “Oh, Sure.” He pulled the money from his pocket. It was over seven hundred dollars. Steve had taken his rainy day stash from the sock drawer to give to Bucky. Not that he intended to seek out Bucky, but incase they bumped into each other. 

He handed it to the priest whose eyes widened.

“Do you need a receipt for this?” The priest looked a little flustered. “You should come inside and get a receipt.”

“No, I don’t need one. I just want to make sure Bucky, Uh, James is okay.” Steve said waving the priest away.

“Really, I need you to sign a donation receipt for this. Our bookkeeper needs to process it.” 

“Fine. I can do that.” Steve said.

“Can you come inside for a minute?” The priest asked.

Suddenly, Steve realized he would get to see inside “Yeah. I have plenty of time.” He felt selfish about his curiosity. But, he really wanted to look around.

The priest led him inside. The place had a foot tall statue of Mary in a nook right by the door. A life sized statue of Joseph was a further back at the base of a stairwell. Immediately inside the front door was an office with old furniture. An ancient nun was behind one desk and a gray haired woman was behind the other. 

Father Nick led Steve to the gray haired woman. “Abby, this is ..Um, I’m sorry.” He said turning back to Steve “I didn’t get your name.”

“Steve. Steve Rogers” 

The priest smiled “Oh. Are you brothers?”

Steve looked confused. “Brothers?”

“I’m sorry. You two have the same last name. I just assumed you were family.”

“Yeah. Sorry. We’re family. Not brothers, but just like it.” Steve said with a slightly confused half a smile.

Abby handed Steve the papers to sign and Steve walked back out, disappointed he didn’t get to see more. He looked up at the building from the sidewalk. The smoking guy was still there. He looked over at Steve. 

“He lose that arm in the war?” The guy yelled.

“What?” Steve asked

“The war. Out there with the terrorists. You look like a soldier.” Cigarette guy elaborated. “He got PTSD or some shit? That why he don’t take the government’s money? Guy looks like he could be nuts. He shoot up a village like you see on the movies?”

Steve just turned away, walked back down the sidewalk before he decided to start something. He wanted to. His blood was boiling. He had never stopped himself before. But he couldn’t do this now, he didn’t want Bucky to get kicked out. Where would he go next? Sleep on the street? Steve wanted to grab cigarette guy and shake him, and stomp on his stupid cigarettes. Steve needed to punch somebody. 

Once he was home, he went straight to the gym and beat three punching bags to shreds within a half hour. When Sam knocked on the door, Steve was sweaty and still thrumming with energy when he popped open the door for Sam. 

Taking a step back instead of walking in, Sam narrowed his eyes and asked, “What did you do?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of the last chapter from Bucky's perspective.

Standing near the top of the ladder, James examines where the gutter has pulled away. A few of the rusty screws came loose, and two were missing. Leaning on the ladder, he pokes his screwdriver at the wood in a few places. The wood was still solid, no rot. Resting his chest against the ladder, he reached around and slipped the screwdriver into his back pocket. Easy fix, he thought to himself. Glancing down, he fumbled and nearly fell. 

Taking a few calming breaths, he needed a second to think. Leaning his forehead against the ladder, he mentally berated himself, ‘Of course Steve would track him down. Of course he couldn’t wait a couple of days. What was he thinking?’ 

James took a final big breath, then headed down the ladder. Near the base, Father Vincent sits on a bench with that loser Jones. Jones is nuts in a way that makes James nervous. James knows his brain has been messed with, Hydra did a lot of things he doesn’t want to think about. But since he knows that he is crazy himself, he wonders how crazy that makes Jones. 

Father Vincent and Jones are talking about yesterdays ball game. Vincent is always nice to everybody. Even crazy Jones. Looking Jones over, he doesn’t doubt that Jones thinks ‘Wow, here comes crazy James’ so maybe they’re even. 

Father Vincent offers to help James fold the ladder, and James accepts. It makes it much easier than trying to wrestle the stupid thing one handed. Especially if there are two able bodied guys just hanging out watching him. Then James really looks nuts not accepting help. 

He worries about looking as crazy as he feels. He wants to go back out into the forest, be alone. Find another job somewhere secluded, not have to talk to anybody. But he can’t with one arm.

He has to grit his teeth, and bear the crowds, and cars. The feeling of being closed in. Surrounded, damaged, and without backup. Watched. Followed. No escape plan. 

James takes a deep breath. 

He slips inside to tell Father Nick he’s going out for supplies. Father Nick offers to pay for the supplies. James waits for the cash, then heads out, hoping that Steve will be right behind him. 

He waits around a corner. The minutes tick by, and there is no sign of Steve. Sighing, he turns around and heads back. 

Steve is in front of the shelter, talking to Father Vincent.

James angrily walks up behind Steve. Overconfident and oblivious. Super-Soldier serum wasted. James clears his throat loudly and Steve jumps, turning guiltily.

“Can I have a word with you?” James says calmly.

Father Vincent says something and slips away. 

“Why are you here?” James whispers loudly. Louder than he intended, but he can’t help himself. Looking over at Jones, James knows the bastard is listening. “I told you I would be back in a few days. Jesus Steve, Why couldn’t you wait.”

Steve doesn’t look James in the eyes, instead they fall to the sling. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard you were at a homeless shelter.” 

“Yeah, I saw the redhead sniffing around here.” James said frustrated, Steve should not be here. James does not need his pity. “I’m fine Steve. The shelter is as nice, as a homeless shelter’s go.”

Not taking the hint, Steve asked “Have you spent a lot of time in them?”

“No Steve, I got a condo on the beach. I’m gonna go all out and get a new Audi next week.” he said sarcastically. “Of course I’ve been in them. It’s either that or squat in some abandoned house. But, since I don’t want to get arrested, I live here. I told you I can’t find work with one arm. No one will hire me. Under the table work goes to the guy who can do the most work for the least money. They see the sling and it’s over.”

Steve pulled out his wallet and tried to give James a wad of money.

Shocked, James blurted out “What the hell is wrong with you? Put that away.” He glanced over at crazy Jones, checked for more prying eyes. For a second his temper got away and he forgot about Jones, now he was mad at himself. Jones was pretending to smoke, watching and listening to everything. James needed to end this. He stepped back.

Steve stepped towards him holding out the cash. “Just take it.”

Refusing the money again, James retreats to the office. Once inside, he spots Father Nick bringing some papers to the accountant. James tells him there is someone outside who wants to make a donation, then tries not to run to the janitor’s closet near the back of the building.

He hides in there rooting through the drawers of a tool cabinet. He pretends to look for a Phillips head screwdriver, even though he is alone and there is no one to lie to. Maybe he wants to fool the Joseph statue around the corner. Sometimes it startles him when he is lost inside his own head. 

He finds it hard to concentrate, and wants to get out of the tiny room. Hopefully, Steve will get the hint and leave soon.

He still doesn’t have the supplies to fix the gutter. James never got the fasteners he needed. He could make due with some of the odds and ends in the drawer, but he doesn’t want the gutter to fall off in the next heavy rain.

After what feels like an eternity, James reemerges. He checks the front office, and entry hall, then looks outside. Steve has gone and he feels relief, but sad at the same time. He had liked this place, and these people. He wanted to help them, but he has to go. 

Father Nick is in his office, and James knocks gently at the doorframe around the open door. Looking up, the priest smiles. “Come in, James. Come in.” He stands to shake James’ hand. 

Taking the offered hand, James looks down, not at the priest. He is too nice. He has a bright smile and short gray hair. His hand is warm. After they shake, James just blurts out “Here” pulling the wad of hardware store money out of his pants pocket. “Sorry, I can’t stay to fix it. I have to go.”

The priest’s smile starts to drop, timidly he asks “Do you have somewhere to go? You can stay here as long as you need to. You don’t have to be able to fix things to stay.”

“I’m going to stay with..” He starts to lie, makes the mistake of looking Father Nick right in his kind brown eyes “Sorry… I just can’t stay.” He stammers.

“Your relative made quite a donation.” Father Nick said reaching out and putting his hand on James right arm. “Was I wrong in accepting? We can send it back. Or, we have other facilities where you can stay James. You don’t have to stay on the street, or go anywhere you don’t want to go.”

Suddenly, James realizes the priest thinks he is on the run from Steve, like some battered housewife. Maybe, he thinks Steve is in the mob. Smiling, James says “You can keep the money. Steve is a good guy. I may have blown everything out of proportion.”


	8. Chapter 8

Sunrise spread a blush of pink over the whole city. Dawn was followed by blue skies with perfect white clouds and a slight breeze. Steve’s morning run couldn’t have been better. Afterward, he and Sam lounge on a park bench. They drink fruit smoothies and talk about art. Sam is really good at steering the conversation into safe zones. The new exhibit of flower paintings at the Smithsonian is as safe as anyone can get. 

On the way home, Steve makes a detour to buy a bouquet of flowers from the neighborhood florist. He is inspired, and wants to paint puffy Hydrangeas. He picks pale blue with a hint of white, like this morning’s sky. 

He hasn’t painted seriously in a while. Last week he dabbled with his watercolors, but wasn’t happy with the results. The flowers will be the perfect still-life.

He is deep in thought when he opens his door. 

Bucky is on his couch again. He looks at the flowers when he stands. 

Steve walks past him looking for a vase. “I didn’t expect you so soon.” He says. In the cabinet under his sink, Steve finds a clear vase and adds water, then the flowers. Bucky doesn’t say anything but he watches, eyes on the flowers.

Steve waits a beat longer, arranging the flowers, pulling off a broken leaf. He leaves the leaf next to the vase on the counter. Bucky’s eyes look glazed. “Buck, you all right?” Steve asks.

Blinking a few times, Bucky finally looks up. “I said I would come back.” His voice sounds uncertain, softer than before. “Did you talk to Stark?” 

“Yeah. He’s in if you are. No cops. But, he would like to see you in New York, at the tower lab. He’ll send a jet. If you want to, we can go this afternoon. It’s up to you.” Steve poured himself a glass of water. “Want one?”

Bucky nodded no, then turned away. “It will take at least a day to get there.” He said facing the sunny window.

“Not by air.” Steve pointed out.

“I’m not going with you. I’ll meet you there. In the morning.” Bucky said. Turning from the window, he looked at the flowers again “You don’t have to go. I don’t want to mess up your date.” 

“What? No.” Steve said. “I wanted to paint these. I can get more later.”

Bucky nodded again, and turned to leave. Then he stopped, looking back at the flowers “My Grandmother had those. By her back door.”

Steve remembered. He remembered Bucky sometimes spent weekends visiting his Grandma. They invited Steve along one summer. Her simple tiny house was surrounded by flowers, both beautiful and fragrant. Teenaged Bucky was bored, and Steve was jealous. Instead of having a fun time, they bickered. Steve wanted the Grandma with the house and the boring summer afternoons. He never told Bucky. He wondered how much Bucky remembered.

“You want one?” Steve said, plucking a single blue puffy head from the vase and holding it out to Bucky. 

Bucky just turned away and went out the door.

The flight to New York was uneventful. It was late morning and Steve stared out the big window of Tony’s lab in Avengers Tower. Tony was insulted that Bucky didn’t fly up in the Stark jet. Excited to see the arm, Tony’s monologues were full of technical jargon he didn‘ t even bother to explain. He had multiple angles of the arm on screens. Steve guessed they had come from the media coverage of the bridge. Desperately, Steve tried to tune him out. Eventually, Pepper came and rescued Steve. She dragged Tony away to get something for breakfast. 

Too nervous to eat, Steve just waited. The lab was full of equipment. He couldn’t even guess at what most of it did. Near the windows was a soft couch, but Steve couldn’t sit for more than a few seconds. He kept wandering back to the windows. 

He leaned against the glass and tried to scan the street below. Pedestrians walked at a brisk clip, interspersed with slow moving tourist families. Turning to get a cup of coffee off a table, Steve caught a familiar shape in the crowd. Bucky was across the street, standing at the corner. He had his hat clutched in his hand, and was staring up at the building. 

Taking the elevator, Steve knew the ride would be agony, but it would be faster than running down over twenty stories. A soon as it stopped, he dashed out and sprinted for the entry doors. He practically ran over Bucky who was just outside. 

Stepping back Bucky asked “You going somewhere?”

“I was afraid you would change your mind.” 

“Why?” Bucky was still a little wide eyed. He slipped his hat back on, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“I want to make sure your arm is fixed.” Steve said “Just so you know, Stark tried to make a bet about you not showing up, but I turned him down. No money will exchange hands.” Steve said smiling, holding his hands up.

“Good to know.” Bucky said. “Wouldn’t want to sully the image of Captain America.”

Leading the way, Steve walked through security while Bucky followed as a silent shadow. His face was expressionless, but his eyes darted around, sizing up each of the guards.

When they came off the elevator, Tony was already back. “Alright Cap.” He said approaching. “Your buddy is just on time. I’m on high octane caffeine, and full of omelet with crab oscar. You should try it. My chef is upstairs, ready to make you one while your buddy and I talk tech.” When he reached Steve he pushed a twenty into Steve’s shirt pocket, and tried to usher him to the elevator.

Pulling the twenty out, Steve dropped it onto a coffee table and plopped down onto the couch. He propped his feet on the coffee table, crossing his ankles. “Not hungry Tony. I’ll be fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.” Tony said, as he headed towards a metal work bench. There was a rolling seat next to it, and Tony began to pull up a tool cabinet. “Have a seat Tin-man.”

Bucky followed with only a quick glance back at Steve. He hopped up on the metal work bench.

“I meant the chair, but whatever.” Tony said, heading back to Bucky. “Remove.” he said poking at the sling with a screwdriver.

Setting his hat on the bench next to him, Bucky pulled the sling over his head. It was followed by his button down. This left Bucky in a clean white tank top undershirt. He held the sling in his lap in a tight grip, balling up the fabric in his fist. Once the arm was uncovered, Steve sat forward and Tony squinted. 

“Is that duct tape?” Tony asked.

The metal arm was rolled in gray duct tape from the shoulder, down to where it disappeared under his glove. It was a meticulously neat job. Careful, even edges wound around the limb. The tape looked like it had been there for a while. It was fraying at the edges and worn at the elbow. 

Strangely it made the arm look like a normal prosthetic, not the deadly futuristic weapon it is. Looking closer, Steve doubted if Bucky could move the elbow or wrist, and he had never even seen a wiggle from the fingers.

Tony shook his head and pulled out a spray can and a blow torch. “It’s a good thing I have this. I am a duct tape removal pro.”

Eyes widening, Bucky sat there frozen.

Steve stood. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Tony squirted a bit of yellow cream onto Bucky’s arm and lit the torch. “Easy there Spangles. You just take a seat in the cheering section. I got this. Gets the tape and gunk in one go.” He turned towards Bucky with the torch in his hand. 

Bucky’s open palm hit Tony in the chest before anyone could register that he moved. The torch clattered to the ground and Tony slid backwards on his ass.

The sling fluttered to the ground and everyone froze stunned. Bucky looked a little shaken up. Steve moved towards him slowly and Tony just sat there in the middle of the floor.

Calmly, Tony said “So, I’ll take that as a you don’t want me to just burn the stuff off?” he shrugged. “Your loss. That cream turns it to instant ash. The slow way is gonna leave you with a sticky arm.” Tony stood and prodded his chest, then moved closer to Bucky.

“Maybe you should give him a second.” Steve said. 

Bucky’s dazed stare slowly moved to Steve’s face. “It’s okay Steve. Yeah, you can burn it off. If it’s faster.” His glazed eyes moved back to the floor. “Sorry. Sorry. Do what you need to do.”

Steve frowned “But you can feel it. Right?” he asked.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up as Bucky responded “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” Tony said before Bucky even fully got the words out. “I don’t know what sort of operation you think I run here, but we are gonna set some ground rules.” he bent and turned off the torch that was currently making a mark on his unburnable floor. 

Continuing, Tony said “It was my mistake jumping the gun. I heard you used this thing to stop yourself on the freeway. Made finger grooves in the concrete. I assumed it was more like my armor. No more assumptions. Let’s start with you telling me how much you know, and we move from there.”

Bucky looked at Tony “Know about what?”

“The arm would be a good start. We can get into what you know about Rogers later. I bet you have good stories about him as a kid. You remember stuff now? Or, is that all gone? I hear brainwashing is a bitch.” Tony paused and stared at Bucky. 

Bucky glanced up at Steve. After an awkward moment he said, “Uh, It works like a regular arm, but stronger.” He paused and looked over at Tony “It’s a lot stronger.”

“Okay, Strong. Got it.” Tony picked up a drink from the tool cart. “Can you tell me what it’s made of? What tech they put in there? What are your range of sensations? Do you perform maintenance yourself? Yadda yadda.” Tony paused to sip his drink.

Bucky sat straighter, “I had a daily maintenance regimen, consisting of cleaning, lubrication of four key housing assemblies, and recalibration of digit response. After mission report, the technician team conducted maintenance and repairs. Upgrades were performed during mission prep.”

“So you clean it and make sure the fingers don’t squish stuff.” Tony said.

Bucky nodded, yes.

“They tell you much about the insides? The stuff that makes it work?” Tony asked.

Frowning Bucky shrugged, and nodded no. “Not really.” then his eyes flickered up to glance at Steve.

“Okay, let’s start with getting the tape off. We’re gonna peel it. You have any issues with that?”

Bucky nodded no.

“No? Great, once we get this tape off we can see what were dealing with.” Starting with the wrist, Tony got the first few coils unwound when a metal plate tugged free, clattering to the floor.

“That’s not a good sign.” Tony said as the metal plate spun slowly.


	9. Chapter 9

Everyone stared at the piece of metal spinning on the floor. Bucky frowned, then said “Sorry. I put that one in there loose.”

“Any more surprises?” Tony asked

“No. No. I snapped that one off when I was trying to reassemble the forearm segments. It was too twisted to fit back without breaking the track mechanism.” He pointed to the area where the plates connected to the arm.

Tony looked inside the arm. With the piece missing, the circuitry beneath was exposed. Moving closer, he stroked his beard then poked his finger into the hole. 

Bucky jumped a little, startled by the sudden movement. And Steve stared back and forth between the two. 

“Did you feel that?” Tony asked. 

Shaking his head slowly Bucky said “No.”

“But you felt things before? 

Bucky nodded yes

“What about when it was smashed? You felt that?”

He nodded yes again

“What about this?” Tony poked a metal tool into the hole. 

Bucky’s eyes widened, but he shook his head no.

“When did you stop feeling it?”

“Eight days ago.”

“Is that why you came groveling to the good Captain here? You realized you can’t fix it? Hydra doesn’t want broken weapons?”

Steve stepped in “Tony. That’s enough. You said you would help us.”

“I just want to see where we stand. I said I would love to see what makes that arm tick. I said I wouldn’t call the cops. Doesn’t mean I don’t think he is at least partially responsible for murdering dozens of people. Two people in particular are hard for me to ignore. ” While Tony spoke, he and Steve moved closer, almost chest to chest. Bucky just stared at the floor under them.

“He was brainwashed. What’s your excuse for Ultron? Steve shot back. 

“You did not just go there.” Tony growled back

Bucky put his hand on Steve’s arm. Steve looked down and immediately felt guilty. 

“That’s right, the tin man knows the score. I bet he can feel that shoulder seeping it’s poison into him.”

Steve turned and looked at Bucky who was studying the wheels on the rolling chair. Bucky’s eyes never met Steve’s but he quietly said “Maybe you should go get that omelet.”

Steve’s jaw dropped “Is there poison? Cyanide? Hydra put cyanide in there?” he said to Bucky. Then reaching out, grabbing Tony’s arm “Tony, Please. You cant let..”

“Easy there Spangles. It’s not that simple. It’s not poison per se. His shoulder has a self contained power unit. When that stopped working, It stopped removing the toxic byproducts.” he moved in and pulled out a utility knife and started to cut at the duct tape. It scraped across the metal making an ugly sharp noise, but not leaving any scratches on the surface beneath.

“It’s building up in his bloodstream, that’s why his fingernails are tinged blue. He’s not getting enough oxygen.” Bucky made a fist when Steve looked down at his hand. 

Bucky sighed “I also took supplements, I think they helped my system purge the toxins.” 

“Have you been taking the supplements?” Steve asked.

Bucky just stared at Steve.

Tony laughed “Yeah. Since Hydra went to ground, I guess you can’t just run down to the corner Hydra pharmacy for a refill.” Tony said while cutting. “So they use an energy source that leeches deadly toxins into your system, and let you Super Soldier your way through it. Sounds very Hydra.”

Once the tape was cut, the arm began to fall open, panels sliding around and pulling away. It started to lose the shape of an arm. The more duct tape that came away, the more impressed Steve was with the taping. Wrapped in Duct tape, it was shaped like an arm. Now, it looked like what Steve remembered from that bathroom floor months ago.

Steve saw the exposed insides. Watched silently, as Tony worked cutting and tugging at the tape, brushing the inside parts with careless glances of sharp tools. Bucky just stared blankly in front of him. His eyes looked unfocused and glazed. He didn’t flinch or move, just sat there slumped, right hand loosely resting on his knee. Steve remembered that Bucky hadn’t wanted Steve to touch any of the insides of the arm. Now he seemed oblivious.

“You’re sure you can’t feel that?” Steve said to Bucky.

Tony looked up, but kept cutting. They both stared at Bucky till he finally found his voice. “I can’t tell.”

Tony stopped cutting, a pile of duct tape at his feet. Straightening he said “What does that mean?” Using the utility knife, he poked again. Bucky didn’t react. “You didn’t feel that. Nothing powering it. This arm is dead.”

Never looking up, Bucky nodded yes. 

“What are you nodding yes to?” Steve asked a little too roughly. “What do you mean you can’t tell if you can feel it?” He stepped closer to Bucky.

Looking up at Steve, Bucky growled “I mean it all feels like it’s on fire, shoulder to fingers, but I can’t actually feel anything specific. I just can’t tell. I can’t tell.” He put his hand on Steve’s stomach and firmly pushed back. “Now step back and give me some space.”

Tony looked up at the shoulder where the arm remained whole. He ducked down and poked a flashlight into a space in the upper arm, looking up into the shoulder. Sticking his finger inside, Tony asked. “So it hurts, but you can’t tell where. Is that what you’re telling us?” 

Tony grabbed a tool off of the tray, and poked it inside. Then, instead of putting it back he stuck it to the outside of the sticky shoulder. He grabbed another tool then jammed it inside. When he began to twist Bucky gasped, eyes widening and looking over at Tony. 

“Maybe you should stop.” Steve put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. Instead, grabbing the tool stuck to Bucky’s shoulder Tony rammed it into the opening, and something lit up inside the shoulder then slowly dimmed. 

Steve could hear Bucky’s heart was pounding. This needed to stop. “Tony Stop.” He put his hand on Tony’s hand. 

Tony looked up and shook his head, “You need to remove your hand.” 

“No. You need to stop.”

Breathing raggedly Bucky said “Steve, let him finish.”

Steve didn’t move

“You heard the man.” Tony said.

Steve turned and walked away facing the window. He could still hear Bucky’s ragged breathing and rapid heartbeat. He tried to stare outside at the sky but he couldn’t help watching them in the reflection of the window. He saw the insides of Bucky’s arm light up and dim a few more times. Each time it did, Bucky’s heart rate spiked. Finally, the arm workings began to light section by section. Tony sat back onto his stool and watched the circuit boards come online. Casually, he reached in to shift a few pieces back into place. 

Steve turned and saw how pale and sweaty Bucky had become. He looked so much worse than when they came in. His eyes were glazed and unfocused staring blankly in front of him. He didn’t respond when Steve came back over. 

Tony went back to work, soldering things and pulling a few shattered pieces out and throwing them carelessly onto the bench beside Bucky’s leg. His metal arm still looked limp. Steve watched and there was no response, no twitching of fingers, nothing.

Finally, Tony pulled a big, egg-shaped metal object out of Bucky’s shoulder. When he removed it, everything dimmed in Bucky’s arm. Bucky took a shuddery breath. 

“Okay. I need to work on the power unit before I put it back in. You’re getting power fluctuations because the capacitors have been damaged and the system needs some resistance to buffer the power output…” Tony looked back and forth at Bucky and Steve. Bucky wasn’t listening, he looked oblivious to everything, and Steve looked like he was boring a whole into Bucky’s brain to see what he was thinking. “I’m gonna take this upstairs. ..” Tony said, then walked away with the unit.

Once Tony left the room, Steve said “Buck.” but Bucky didn’t respond, just stared blankly in front of him. Steve put his hand on Bucky’s right arm. “Buck. There’s a room upstairs. You look like you should lie down.” Steve tugged. 

Bucky looked up, and slid off the table, standing on wobbly legs. Steve stepped in to put his arm around Bucky to stabilize him, but Bucky stepped to the side out of reach. Immediately, Bucky began to go down, his knees buckling. He grabbed at the table, and small pieces and tools clattered to the floor. Steve grabbed him before he went down too far, and helped him stand again. He swayed in Steve’s grip. Steve could feel how clammy Bucky felt. He put his arm around Bucky and steered him to the couch, where he slumped down. 

“Okay. This is far enough.” Steve said lifting Bucky’s legs onto the couch. Bucky closed his eyes and let out a few deep shuddering breaths. Steve left and came back with a glass of water. “Do you want a few sips?” He held it out to Bucky, turning the straw towards him.

Bucky sat up “Did you put a straw in it?” 

“I thought you might not be able to sit up.” Steve shrugged.

Reaching out with a shaking hand, Bucky took the glass. He sat forward, and drank straight from the glass, pushing the straw aside to drink. After a few sips he handed it back to Steve, then lie back. He reached over, adjusting the limp arm at his side, moving it onto his stomach, then draped his right arm over his eyes. 

Setting the drink on the coffee table in front of the couch, Steve took a seat in a nearby arm chair. He stared at the mess that was Bucky’s arm, and the shaking right hand with it’s blue tinged fingernails. He realized Bucky was watching him from under his arm.

“You’re staring again.” Bucky said, closing his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

Dozing on the couch with his arm over his face, Bucky opened his eyes every ten minutes or so. He would stare at Steve for a few seconds before drifting off again. His heart rate had come down to a more normal level, but Bucky was still pale and his hand occasionally shook. 

Eventually, Bucky shifted around. Taking his arm from his eyes, he used his hand to push himself up a little further, trying to get comfortable. 

Steve stood, “You should eat.” he said while walking over to a table at the side of the room. The table was covered with bowls of fruit, bagels and muffins. Steve loaded up a plate and came back. “Here.” he said putting the plate on the coffee table across from Bucky, then left to get a drink.

Setting a glass next to the plate, Steve said “Orange juice. You said it helps, unless that was just something you said to ditch me.”

Bucky sat up and just gave Steve a lifted eyebrow, but no verbal response. He reached out and drained the orange juice, then silently and quickly ate everything on the plate. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glanced around the room. Steve stood up and fixed Bucky another plate, and juice. “You still hate raisins?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged, “No.”

“Really? Because, I think these bagels all have raisins. That was the last plain one.”

“Raisins are fine.” 

Steve looked surprised. “I guess it’s been a while. Your tastes change, huh?”

“less picky now.”

“I can’t imagine Hydra had a lot of great chefs on their payroll.” Steve frowned.

“You could say that.”

“Hey, you want that omelet with crab oscar Tony was raving about?” 

From the way his eyes darted up, Steve could definitely tell he was interested. 

Bucky shrugged noncommittally. 

Steve pushed the issue “I’m not sure what crab oscar is, but you used to love crab. Remember when your uncle worked the fishing boat?” 

Bucky looked away and shook his head no. Steve frowned, setting the full plate with it’s raisin bagel in front of Bucky, then taking a seat.

Looking Bucky over, Steve saw his color was starting to come back to a more normal shade of pale, and his eyes looked less glassy. Steve stood again smiling hesitantly. He held out his hand, offering to help Bucky up. “Elevator’s only a few feet that way.”

Bucky looked up at Steve, then down at his hand. His eyebrows came together, and he frowned. Steve continued “Stark only hires the best. Come on, Buck. The Best.”

Glancing towards the elevator, Bucky slowly rose to his feet. His left arm hung limply and he looked down at it. Steve quickly retrieved the sling and moved closer to help Bucky into it. At first, Steve was hesitant, but Bucky allowed him to slide it over his head and help guide the jumble of metal through. It wasn’t lost on Steve that Bucky flinched a little whenever Steve came in contact with his skin or the metal arm. Finally, the arm was situated in the sling, and they headed for the elevator. 

The omelet was as good as Tony said. It turned out Oscar was also the chef’s name, and he made a mean omelet with lump crab. Steve watched Bucky wolf down three plates of them, with potatoes on the side. Steve ate one, and knew that was some good stuff. He sat sipping his coffee, and watching Bucky eat. Bucky didn’t say a word the whole meal, focused on the food. 

After the third plate, Bucky took a big breath and leaned back in his chair. He looked up at Steve, “I uh, I didn’t eat this morning.”

Smiling Steve said “That really was the best omelet I’ve ever eaten. Just don’t tell Tony. His ego is big enough as it is.” 

“Did I hear my name?” Tony said from behind Bucky. “I’m glad you took advantage of the Chef. He is definitely worth every penny.” 

Tony pulled up a chair and joined them at the table. He set the metal gizmo he pulled from Bucky’s arm on the table between them. “We know this thing is your power source. A pretty fancy interface lets it control the movement of the arm using your own nervous system. That’s why you can’t tell what hurts. Your nerves can’t figure out why nothing is responding. It’s gotta be making the nerves in your shoulder crazy.” He reached over and drank Bucky’s untouched coffee.

Steve asked “Did you fix it?”

“Fix? No, I’m still trying to figure out how it works.” he looked over at Bucky “You sure you don’t know how this thing works? Because it has your finger prints all over it.”

Steve looked back and forth between Bucky and Tony, who just stared at each other over the table. Tony took another sip of coffee. 

Bucky finally said “Did you think I wouldn’t try to fix it on my own first?”

“So you know how it works.”

“Generally. I was there when they put it in.”

“You remember that?” Tony asked 

“Some. Most. I think.” Bucky replied.

“When you tried to fix it, how far did you get? What am I missing? I can’t get inside, or even get a scan of the inside. It’s completely shielded. It just looks like a big dead egg. How do we crack it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t even get as far as you did. I fixed most of the damaged pieces, and reassembled the frame. It didn’t lose power till recently. From what I know about Hydra, you do not want to actually open that thing. I want you to turn it back on. But, I wouldn’t open it.”

Tony grabbed it off the table, then held it up, examining it. “What powers it? Is it tesseract powered? It came on for a second, powered up your arm, then went dead again. What makes it stay on? How do I turn it on without opening it?” He leaned towards Bucky.

Bucky looked Tony right in the eyes, “I don’t know what a tesseract is. When they go in my arm, something glows blue like Schmidt’s Hydra weapons. Usually, I can’t see what they are doing, and they don’t tell me.”

“I think Bucky’s right Tony. Don’t open it.” Steve added.

Tony set the power unit on the table. “Well then how do we start it up? You have some sort of hand crank like on a model-T? Some button I press? Jumper Cables? Stick it in a microwave? Come on, give me a clue.”

“If I knew, I would have done it myself.” Bucky said standing.

Steve stood also “Tony, I think we need to get some rest. You can find us in my apartment.”

Once they were in the elevator, Bucky said “I’m not going to your apartment.” Then hit the button for the lobby.

Steve turned towards Bucky “Wait, what? Where are you going?” 

“I’ll come back when he’s figured it out.” he said staring at the buttons as they descended.

“How can we contact you? Do you even have a phone?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

When they reached the lobby, the elevator doors opened, and Steve reached out grabbing Bucky’s arm as he tried to rush off. Bucky did not look happy and the muscle in his jaw jumped. “Let go.” he said.

“Where are you going?” 

“I need air.” He answered quietly, not looking at Steve.

Steve let go. “Can I come?”

“Whatever. Free country.” Bucky said as he pushed through the lobby to get outside. Once outside, Bucky put his head down and walked quickly, barely looking up from the pavement in front of him. He dashed between cars as he boldly crossed without waiting for the light. Steve trailed behind him, rushing to keep up. 

There was a small park a few blocks away, behind the library. The wooded area was teeming with lunching lounging city people. Once inside the park, Bucky slowed down and began to circle under the trees. Finally, he found a place that had a few meters of unoccupied space and stopped. Leaning his back against a tree, he slid down to the ground and closed his eyes. 

Steve stood glancing around, suddenly aware that Bucky was in nothing but an undershirt and a sling. The metal of the shoulder was exposed, the puckered scarred skin where the metal met flesh could be seen around the shirt’s thin band of white fabric. In the bright afternoon sun, the red star stood out on the gleaming metal. Steve quickly started unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it off, and held it out. 

“Here.” He said holding the shirt in front of Bucky’s face. Bucky didn’t open his eyes. “Buck.” Steve said “You need to cover up.”

Eyes snapping open, Bucky immediately snatched the shirt and began to scan the area around them. Clumsily, he tried to drape the shirt over the shoulder. There was no way he was going to get the limp mangled limb into the sleeve. He just needed to cover it.

As he was covering up, a beam of blue light shot from the 75th floor of the Avengers tower. It poured from the windows like a lighthouse. Suddenly, the windows shattered and smoke billowed from the tower. Bucky jumped to his feet, and he and Steve were off running. Within seconds, four black helicopters zoomed overhead. They headed straight for the tower, towards the blue light. As the smoke cleared, a dozen agents in black began to rappel down into the tower.

Sprinting into the tower, Bucky yelled. “I told him not to open it.”


	11. Chapter 11

Hundreds of frightened people were streaming from Avengers Tower. Glass from shattered windows littered the street and sidewalks. A taxi hit a silver BMW, pushing it up onto the sidewalk. It narrowly missed hitting three women, and ended up jammed between two street signs. The two vehicles were quickly abandoned. Smoke rolled from the engine of the yellow cab. Bucky and Steve vaulted over the taxi and forged through the flow of the crowd, aiming for the Tower entrance. 

Once inside, Steve led the way to the private elevator. Bucky balked as the door slid open. 

“Didn’t they teach you not to take the elevator in an emergency?” He asked.

“Just get in. It’s faster. ” Steve said while reaching out, grabbing Bucky by the shoulder and hauling him in. The doors shut immediately, and the elevator instantly climbed towards Tony’s Lab.

Both men stared at the doors. With a jerk and a loud boom, the elevator lurched, and the lights went off. 

“Jarvis, uh Friday, status?” Steve said. There was no answer. He could hear Bucky scrambling to pull the doors open one handed. It opened a crack, letting in light from the hallway outside the door.

A dim emergency light came on in the elevator as Steve moved next to Bucky. Steve easily shoved the doors open, and they both scrambled out of the elevator. 

Racing for the stairs, they encountered more Towers employees on their way down. The elevator hadn’t made it very far, the sign on the stairwell showed they were only on the tenth floor. As they made their way up, there were less and less people headed down. After they passed the thirtieth floor, Steve had begun to take a significant lead. As he passed the fortieth floor, he glanced back and saw Bucky was starting to slow. 

“You okay back there, Buck?” He yelled over his shoulder.

Between panting breaths, Bucky answered “Don’t wait for me. Just go.” 

“You need to sit this one out? We got thirty-five floors to go.”

“I just ate three omelets, Jerk.” he gasped “I wasn’t expecting to climb mount Everest right after.”

They raced up at least a dozen more floors before they heard more loud booms and the stairwell shook. Over three floors of stairs separated them now, and Bucky finally stopped. Steve could hear his labored breathing, and leaned over the railing trying to see if he was okay. 

Bucky called up the stairs “Just go.” he gasped “I’m fine. Steve go.” 

Steve dashed up the stairs, sometimes jumping them a landing at a time. The booms sounded again, closer this time, followed by a loud rumbling.

Steve was feeling the effects of the climb. His legs ached, but he pushed on. The booms were much louder. He was almost there, only two flights to go. 

Not slowing once he arrived, Steve burst out of the stairwell. The reinforced door latches shattering under the force of his momentum.

It took Bucky about ten minutes to catch up. He gained back some of his speed after he left his breakfast behind. He was panting by the time he saw the splintered doorframe. 

Stopping cautiously in the smashed doorway, he found nothing inside but smoking wreckage. Charred furniture, and twisted metal littered the floor. Shattered windows were gaping open, looking out onto a peaceful blue sky. A gentle breeze blew through, stirring the ash, and blowing billows of smoke from furniture still in flames.

Twice, Bucky tried to call out for Steve but he didn’t have the breath. He stumbled through the doorway and flipped a big charred upended shelving unit, looking for Steve. He stumbled from area to area, and it was all the same. Bucky tried to listen for him, trying to figure out which way he went. The ash was making Bucky cough. He felt it clog his nose, and he tasted it in his mouth as he panted for air. Finally, Bucky ended up on the roof. Still no sign of anyone. No sign of Steve, the Hydra helicopters were gone, and so was Stark. 

Bucky stood on the rooftop and turned a circle. The wind was blowing, buffeting him. Pushing him. Steve’s thin cotton shirt snapped against Bucky’s chest as it billowed around the sling. No one was up here, he was alone.

Sirens distantly rang out on the street below, multiplying as more approached. They were surrounding the Tower. A black helicopter approached, swung over Bucky’s head, circling. Bucky looked up, stunned and being blown by the wind. His hair stung his eyes. Rifle barrels followed him from the open doorway on the side of the chopper. He didn’t need to look at his chest to know he had to be covered in red dots. They had him in their sights. He slowly turned, and saw more marksman on distant rooftops. 

He knew this was it. There was no escape from this. If he made a move they would open fire. They might even fire if he didn’t make a move. He watched the news. Any one of these guys could be Hydra. Hell, they might all be. Hydra would want him alive. He worried some regular SWAT Team sniper might take the shot. They would ruin Steve’s shirt.

He needed to get Steve. Hydra had him now. Bucky was sure. There would be no way he wouldn’t have been here otherwise. Bucky could jump, he could escape. But he wouldn’t.

He would wait for the Helicopter. The crew would be easy to overcome once they thought they had him in custody. He just needed to be patient. It was hard. Every minute took Steve further away. 

He tried to think through his choices. There was a definite chance that if he surrendered, Hydra might take him to the same place they have Steve. It was the most likely possibility. Hydra was nothing if not overconfident. Bucky seethed inside at the thought that they were putting their hands on Steve.

Anger clouded judgment. That was a mistake he had made before. Bucky would make them pay. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his head and put his right hand up then tucked it behind his head. Surrender, he would surrender. Hydra didn’t surrender. Death before surrender was beaten into all of them, and he had to think back. Remember how it was done. 

The helicopter turned, approaching to land close by. A harsh male voice yelled commands into the speaker. He knew how to follow orders. The helicopter was roaring right overhead, almost drowning out the voice on the speaker. But he heard it. “Hands Up! On You knees!” 

Carefully, he knelt. In the distance more helicopters quickly approached. Their distant thumping adding to the deafening roar of the helicopter overhead. 

“Raise both hands!” the voice yelled. The chopper landed less than a dozen yards away. Armed helmeted men dressed in black tactical gear spilled from the chopper. They instantly surrounded him, rifles aimed and ready. He could see no identifying insignia on their gear. Not police then, someone else. One man stepped forward, rifle aimed at Bucky’s face, and yelled “Both hands in the air now!”


	12. Chapter 12

Several military style helicopters circled overhead, while one hovered inches from the helipad. Cautiously, a squad of men in black tactical gear approached, rifles all trained on Bucky. The man in the center repeated “Both hands in the air now!” His helmet visor had been shined to a high gloss. Bucky only saw his own reflection, and the rifle aimed right between his eyes. 

Biting his lip, Bucky tried not to glare at him, tried to look down, look nonthreatening. He wanted to grab the weapon right from the bastard’s hands. The cocky idiot moved too close, trigger finger in the wrong position. Bucky was fast. He could smack the weapon to the left, take it right from the idiot’s hands. He didn’t even need two working hands to do it. The rifle would go off right next to his ear. He knew the other gunmen would open fire, but he would survive if he used their leader as a shield.

Thinking like that would not help Steve. Every instinct was screaming to fight. Bucky hung his head and closed his eyes. A bead of sweat ran down his temple, and another rolled down his neck. The wind from the rotors blew Steve’s shirt and the fabric stuck to Bucky’s back. 

He heard the man move in, could smell detergent and sweat as he rushed forward. Felt the fabric of Steve’s shirt yanked, and the two buttons near the top pop off. They were the only ones Bucky was able to secure over the sling. The man jerked back when he saw the metal arm, but moved in again just as quickly. 

The hiss of a blade pulled from a sheath made Bucky jerk his head away. The man leaned close, and Bucky flinched. With a quick tug, the sharp blade cut through the sling and the cybernetic arm tumbled free. The metal hand uselessly came to rest on his thigh. The sling and shirt were tossed away. The man grabbed Bucky’s metal hand pulling it behind his back. His right hand was next, twisting around and down, beside the other. Another operative held large heavy manacles. He heard them click open. Recognized the sound. They were mechanized, engineered for an enhanced human.

Pushed forward, Bucky thumped down onto his chest as the manacles clamped closed. Strong hands tugged his legs as they put shackles around his ankles. He could feel the hands at his sides, and legs. Someone pulled a small knife from Bucky’s boot, then cut away the laces, pulling the boots off and tossing them to the side. Another blade was found in the small of his back, inside his belt. The belt was unbuckled and pulled free then tossed to the side too. Rough hands pushed and rolled him until they were satisfied. Then he was left on his stomach, face down and smelling the hot surface of a rooftop helipad tarmac. 

A few guards stayed by his side, weapons ready. They were positioned to his back, in his blind spot. He wouldn’t be able to get a good look at them if he did open his eyes. Most of the men moved away. More helicopters were circling. The loud thumping from their rotors was deafening. The wind kept changing direction, as each moved in or moved away. One helicopter moved in close, landing on the other side of the roof. 

He heard boots running, people reporting. Enhanced hearing picked out their conversation “Tower has been cleared, no casualties. 73rd floor through the roof has significant damage, but so far it looks like the structure is still intact. Barnes was found on the roof alone.”

A woman responded “Did they get anything else?” 

Bucky’s head snapped up. He saw Maria Hill talking to the men in black. 

The man responded “Tower AI report is negative, we are checking that it hasn’t been tampered with...” 

He didn’t listen anymore. This was Stark’s security, not Hydra. He needed to get out of here now. They were a waste of his time at best, prison at worst.

Flipping onto his back he thumped his legs onto the hard tarmac. The mechanized shackles cracked, the guards moved in yelling. Enhanced strength mixed with adrenaline, and his legs were soon free. As soon as he got to his knees, someone fired a taser. 

His muscles all spasmed for a second, before he got himself under control. He smiled. The manacles around his wrist sparked. The taser had short circuited the electronics inside. With a jerk he twisted his right wrist, pulling hard. He felt the flesh around his thumb tear as his hand slid free. Another taser hit, and he grabbed the wires and pulled it from the man’s grip. A sniper from a nearby rooftop fired. The round bit into the flesh near his left shoulder blade. The loud ping rang in his ears as the bullet ricochet off the metal below. It left a long open wound, and he could feel the vibrations in the metal all the way to his spine. Luckily the damage was on his useless side. 

Tuning out the yelling, he charged a black chopper as it was lifting off. The other fled the moment the shit hit the fan. The helicopter made it about five yards off the side of the building, before he dove towards it. Grabbing the landing gear with one hand, he hooked his legs around and hauled himself up.

The chopper moved back over building, just above the tarmac. Only having one working arm slowed him, as he tried to transition from the landing gear into the doorway. Men dove on top of him, trying to pull him off. He kicked one away and another replaced him. While he struggled to board, the door on the other side opened. Hill jumped inside and slid the door closed. The guards released Bucky and stepped back.

The helicopter was still swaying slightly as Bucky lie there on his stomach. His legs were outside, and a big black stripe of underwear separated pants from shirt. The pants had been dragged down on one side. He was lucky they were still on. His sweat-soaked undershirt was now filthy and torn. Hill calmly took a seat. The pilot kept looking into the back nervously.

“Are you done? We have to come up with a plan to rescue Captain Rogers.” she looked him dead in the eyes, a frown on her face. “Take a seat.” she added.

Swinging his legs inside, he stood and slid the door closed. Before he sat, he tugged his pants into a more respectable location, but they seemed to have a mind of their own without the belt. 

As soon as he was seated, the helicopter swung away and headed west, over the city. Hill leaned over, grabbed a first-aid kit and tossed it into his lap. Pulling out her phone she typed something into it, and scrolled through a few messages. 

Holding the kit, he notices his thumb is crusted in blood, and his whole hand is wet with it. His back burns where the bullet ripped open his shoulder. His heart rate started to return to normal, now that he wasn’t being chased, tased, and shot. Taking a second to assess, he realized he’s a little dizzy, and his legs ache from the run up the stairs. 

Staring at the kit in his lap, he traced the red cross with his finger. His hand left a bloody smudge on the new packaging. He can’t use any of it one handed. Possibly some ointment, but with his quick healing it would be pointless. 

Hill said “Hey.” and he looked up. She held a bottle of water in her hand instead of the phone. Uncapping the bottle, she hands it to him. Tipping it up, he drank the whole thing in one go. Hill retrieved another bottle while he drank. After he finished, she slid into the seat next to him, taking the first-aid kit from his lap.

“What do we need to take care of first? Thumb or back?” she asked.

He set the empty bottle on the floor. “Back.” he simply states, and turns his back towards her. 

Hill poked around the wound, assessing. He felt a tug, and she pulled the thin fabric of his shirt up. He reached over his head and pulls it off. Holds it bundled in his lap, getting even more blood on it. He can feel her cleaning the wound with water, wiping the skin down and applying the dressing. She doesn’t say anything, and neither does he. 

Finally, he said “Do you need my report?”

“About what?” She asked smoothing down the tape, and wiping up around the wound. When she washed out the wound, she got water down the back of his pants. His whole waistband feels soaked in the back, pants and underwear. The seat is wet too. He hears her unwrap another dressing and try to blot it. 

Looking over his shoulder, he saw a red and pink wet stain on the seat. He glanced over at her “Don’t you need to know what happened?”

She smiled “We know what happened. Friday gave a full report, and Stark only went off line a few minutes ago.” She gestured for his hand.

He looked down at her hands for a second. “They got Steve?” He looked up at her “Hydra took him?” he asked.

She frowned and took his hand, looked it over. Then leaned down and grabbed the half empty water bottle off the floor. Holding the damp dressing under it, she dripped a little water over his thumb, then turned his hand, trying to see what was just blood and what was open wound. He could feel some of it was stiff, and trying to knit itself together already. 

Without looking up she said “They hit Steve with a tranquilizer. He fought for a while, but they hit him a few more times and he was overwhelmed. Tony followed the helicopter for a while, but they had reinforcements ready. He’s heading back. ”

Bucky just nodded, and stared at his hand as she worked. She was on his left, by the metal arm, but she didn’t seem bothered by it. Working with Stark probably has her used to robotics. As she wrapped a bandage around some gauze, he spoke “It was for me.” She looked up. “They were coming for me. But.. but they took him.” his voice tapered off at the end.

“We’ll get him back.” she said. He nodded but continued to stare at her hand. “Seriously, this is the Avengers they are messing with. We’ve got his back.”  
He nodded again, but still didn’t look up. After she finished, he stayed slumped, staring at his wrapped hand, occasionally looking at his filthy socked feet. 

They didn’t travel all the way to the Avengers training camp, instead stopping at a private landing field somewhere in the Catskills. A few nearby buildings had all of the earmarks of Stark Industries with their big glass windows and chrome. As they landed, Bucky slipped what was left of his filthy tank top back on. Hill jumped from the chopper as soon as it hit the ground, and Bucky followed. 

As they walked towards the building, Stark walked out wearing part of an Iron Man suit. The suit looked singed, and smashed in places. Bucky wondered what the parts he wasn’t wearing looked like. He looked Bucky up and down and scowled, “Hill, we do not have time for this. I need people in the air ten minutes ago, and now this guy shows up not even wearing shoes. What happened to him? You said there was an incident, not that he went a couple of rounds with Mohammed Ali. Are those taser burns on his shirt? Your security people did not try to tase him?”

Hill shrugged “Things escalated since I spoke to you last. I sent you an email.”

“Do I look like I have time for email?” He turned and started walking back, “I made an arm ready for this guy, and you bring him singed and bloody. That’s the last time I have you give my people a ride.”

“An arm?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t get too excited. I have something that will get you functional again. Nothing fancy. Just slip one of my Iron Man suit gauntlets over your arm, and you should be field ready.” He turned to slap Bucky on the shoulder and stopped short. “Hill! Is that a gunshot wound?” 

Hill shrugged “One of the new guys got a little excited.” she turned away and headed down the hall in a different direction. “In our defense, he was throwing people around like rag dolls. That tends to get the security guys to use extra force.” she yelled over her shoulder as she walked away.

Bucky watched her walk away for a second scowling, when he was shot he hadn’t thrown anybody around yet. Tony was grumbling something about Bucky having shoes when he saw him last, and now they needed to get him clothes his size. 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky cut in.

“We got him… We got him.” Stark said “I have a tracker on their chopper, and one on Steve. I got blown to bits getting it on there, by the way. We need to get right back in the air, before they find them, and all my efforts are wasted.” Tony kept walking while he talked, leading them into a room full of half built projects. He grabbed a man rushing past the door. “Get this guy a full tactical uniform. Weapons, body armor, the whole nine yards. I want it yesterday, got me.” The man nodded and rushed away. 

“Do you need my size?” Bucky asked while looking around at all of the equipment around him.

“Size? No Friday, the A.I. can tell what size you are.” Tony walked up to a silver gauntlet. “Try that on.” he said, handing it to Bucky.

Bucky was able to slip it over his metal arm, but the fingers didn’t want to line up. He jiggled it a little but they still didn’t go in. 

Tony held out his hand, and Bucky slid it off and handed it back. Frowning, Tony said, “You still have sticky residue from the duct tape. It’s already a snug fit. It wasn’t actually built for you.”

“Torch it off.” Bucky cut in

Tony’s eyes widened. “You sure?” 

“We don’t have time to waste. Just torch it.” Bucky said. Tony began rummaging the drawers before Bucky finished speaking. He pulled out some seemingly random equipment, then handed Bucky a hat. 

Just as he said earlier, it was a fast process. A bright ball of fire took off all of the glue. It also had Bucky thanking god Tony gave him the hat while he checked his left eyebrow to make sure it was still there. 

After that, the armor slid right on. Tony spent five minutes sliding needles straight into the flesh of Bucky’s shoulder, bypassing any of the damaged arm’s circuitry, and straight into his nervous system. It stung, but he had worse. 

Before Tony was done, the hallway guy showed up with a full uniform for Bucky. The arm was functional, if bulky. It also had the advantage of having a repulsor ray built into the palm. That could come in handy. 

Changing quickly, Bucky found the jacket and shirts were all missing the left sleeve. Finally, he loaded the weapons, checked ammo and strapped on a few knives. They even had the latest Stark Tech explosives. By the time he was done, the bullet wound was nothing but an itchy irritation. His right thumb worried him a little, hopefully it had enough time to heal. He unwrapped the dressing, and threw it on a bench. The bleeding had stopped and he slid on a glove.

As he was finishing up, Tony came back in the room. He wore a different Iron Man suit, and was followed by Natasha Romanoff and Sam Wilson. Both were already in their gear, neither looked pleased to see him. 

Maria Hill walked in last, “Thor is on his way directly to coordinates. Hawkeye has the enhanced Quinjet ready on tarmac two. Is everybody ready?” She handed a commo earpiece to Bucky. “We lost signal about thirty seconds ago. They’re still on the move. We have to go now before we lose him. Remember Hydra are on to us, and will be ready.”


	13. Chapter 13

The Quinjet began to takeoff. Bucky stared past the pilot, watching the screens in the cockpit, listening to the pilot’s casual conversation with Stark. 

Stark flew outside the Quinjet. A man with wings and goggles rode inside. Falcon they called him, or Sam Wilson. Bucky had seen him on the cover of a magazine or two recently. Falcon’s eyes never left Bucky, but Bucky ignored him. He was used to being stared at. The monitors at the front of the Quinjet had infrared sensors. He could clearly see Stark ahead on the infrared, his jets glowing bright on the monitor. Bucky glanced over at Falcon and wondered why he was inside the Quinjet, maybe he didn’t have the range that Stark did. Still, the man had wings, air support was always useful in a fight. 

The jet shuddered from turbulence, making a buzzing noise like automatic gunfire. Suddenly, he felt dizzy and had trouble staying upright in his seat. Closing his eyes, Bucky brought his right hand up to his mouth. He took a few deep breaths trying not to be sick. Memories of shooting Quinjet pilots and kicking men into jet engines overwhelmed him. He could smell the gunpowder, hear the buzz of automatic fire. His vision filled with bright red as bullets sprayed into a man right through his helmet. He remembered being careful not to damage the aircraft. Keep the bullets in the thick parts of the body. When he climbed into the Quinjet, the warm blood pooling in the seat and spattered on the controls meant nothing to him. The dead man slumped there, was nothing to him. He probably had a wife, kids, people who loved him. No one would miss Bucky if he had died, they were all long gone. Sweat rolled down his temple. 

He was lost in his own head. Trapped reliving the battle. 

He tried to think of other things, visualize himself in the woods. Digging. The feel of the wood handle, the way the shovel bit into the dirt. The repetition. Sweating was normal here, muscles burned and his heart rate would rise, but it was expected. There was no threat, and no bodies. Just himself and the dirt. He felt calmer. Slowly everything started to settle, the world stopped spinning. 

Opening his eyes he realized everyone was staring at him. They looked alarmed, and even the pilot was watching him as much as flying the jet. 

The pilot was talking “Is he okay? What’s going on back there? Because if he is having some sort of breakdown, this is a really bad time. Nat, someone, tell me something. ETA 3 minutes. If I gotta take him somewhere else, I need to reroute now before we’re right on top of them.”

“I’m fine” Bucky growled out. When he looked around, he saw Falcon again and everything started to tilt. He looked away quickly. Tried to keep his eyes on the pilot, He was the Avenger Hawkeye, and the only one in here who didn’t stir up memories. 

Bucky needed to be ready. At his best to save Steve. He was already wearing a makeshift arm, the flashbacks were not helping. He tried to clear his mind and focus. They always told him the wipes made him a better fighter, maybe that wasn’t a lie. He was always completely focused after he recovered from a wipe. His mission was the only thing he thought about. No regrets, no guilt, no fear. Just the mission. He needed that focus now, but he knew it was long gone. His mind was all over the place. 

He took a few calming breaths, and realized the team had been discussing the rescue mission. He hadn’t listened to any of it. The redhead kept glancing over at him. She knew he was the weak link right now.

It turned out it didn’t matter. They assaulted the location, and found an empty warehouse, no hidden underground Bunkers, no Steve. There were a few Hydra rear guard and some high tech weaponry on the rooftop next to the empty helicopter. The battle was over in minutes. The Hydra guard took cyanide when they were being overrun. They knew this was a suicide mission.

Bucky walked out of the smoking building and walked towards the wood line outside. He looked back at the building. Steve hadn’t been brought here. He could see Thor, Falcon and Stark flying around the building looking for clues. The Black Widow was inside the Hydra helicopter checking the computer. She had saved it from the auto destruct, but he knew the Helicopter would be clean. The Stark tracking devices sat blinking in the pilot seat. This was a ruse and they all knew it. 

Standing on the rooftop, Hawkeye looked out at Bucky. Turning away, Bucky headed back towards the Quinjet, the Avengers could continue their wild goose chase. 

When he entered the Quinjet, he could feel that something was wrong. Someone had been here. They should have left a rear guard, this was shoddy soldiering. They were overconfident because the Avengers were super-heroes not soldiers. It didn’t take long for Bucky to find the file in the Quinjet computer. As soon as he found it, he heard a thump as Stark landed next to the Quinjet. The message was asking or a trade, Winter Soldier for Cap. They also gave coordinates. Pretty simple. Bucky deleted the message. When Stark strolled aboard the jet, Bucky was in the back in his seat staring at nothing. 

The team reassembled and headed back to the Avengers training site. Bucky would have to steal a Quinjet, to make the trade. He could stow away on one after dark, then once in the air, would push the pilot out and take it. He needed to make sure the pilot had a parachute. Bucky wondered if he should write that on his hand so he didn’t forget. He felt a prickle of fear that he might slip and forget. He might kill in the heat of battle. Safety is not usually on his list of mission objectives.

Stark’s gauntlet would have to be left behind, he wished he could have seen what it could do. 

An oppressive silence on the Quinjet allowed Bucky to think. He was used to oppressive silences. Once they landed, he looked around, and all of the Avengers had the thousand yard stare. He didn’t know how these people were supposed to defend the planet. Except the Widow. Her thousand yard stare was fake, she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. She suspected him of something. If this mission goes south, she will think he took Steve. If this goes south, he won’t care what she thinks.

The Avengers are greeted by even more Avengers. A man in silver armor, a young girl, a green man, and a middle aged man in glasses walked towards the returning team. The man in silver armor was War-Machine. He is dangerous and smart. He was useful, and should have been on this mission. Stark lands next to War-machine and they greet each other, He sounds like he also just arrived.

As the man in glasses walks closer, Bucky realizes he is the Hulk. Bucky breaks into a sweat as Banner approaches them. His heartbeat fills his ears as a strange instinctive urge to run, came over him. He pushed it down. Thankfully, Stark turned to Banner, pulling him aside, giving Bucky room to escape.

Everyone seemed to know where they were going. Bucky looked around, maybe he needed to follow the crowd and lie low until evening, when he could make a break for it, make the trade.

In the commotion of people moving around, Bucky didn’t notice Falcon following him, until Wilson said “We should eat before we head out again.” 

Turning, Bucky looked at Falcon. Wilson looked Bucky up and down. The goggles were pushed up on his forehead, and his wings were stowed in the backpack. It was easier to look at him when Bucky could see his face. Wilson said “I could eat. Cafeteria’s this way.” Then, he started to shrug out of his backpack.

On the way to the cafeteria, they stopped at an armory where Wilson hung up the jet-pack, and stowed a few fire-arms. Bucky was wearing dozens of Stark’s weapons, but he didn’t move to hand any over, and no one tried to take them.

The cafeteria was small and mostly empty. Bucky paused when he realized he had no money on him. 

Turning, Wilson smiled, “Hey, my treat.” then pulled out some sort of Avengers card. It had a chip. Bucky had seen this tech before, it was a master key. 

If he stole it, he would have access to anything inside the facility. But, he didn’t need anything else inside the training camp, Stark had given him the latest weapons. Everything he could need.

Explosives, firearms, even a repulsor ray, none of it would be necessary. He wasn’t attacking anyone. It was a trade. He would go back to Hydra and Steve would go free. Simple.

If anything with Hydra was simple. 

Waiting, Wilson watched him. Bucky wondered how long he was standing in the doorway thinking. Wilson glance down at Bucky’s hand, it was shaking and Bucky wasn’t sure when that started. 

“We’re going to get him back. If you need to sit this out..” Wilson started.

“No.” Bucky said, making a fist.

“Well, come on.” He said gesturing inside “I would stay away from the pasta in this place. Tony has top chefs in his places, but the pasta in this place gives me such indigestion, I need a whole bottle of antacid afterwards.” They head over to get themselves a couple of sandwiches and drinks, then sit at a table. 

While Bucky takes a bite of his sandwich, the Black Widow slides into the seat next to him. His mouth is suddenly dry, and he has trouble chewing. Wilson was talking, but Bucky wasn’t really listening. It was something about his Aunt’s pasta salad. The Widow wasn’t listening to him either. She was watching Bucky, and Bucky had to get a sip of his drink to wash the sandwich down. Her expression was unreadable. 

“You know something.” She said.

Wilson stopped mid sentence. He looked back and forth between the two. “You do?” He asked frowning at Bucky.

They both stared at him. He stared at the sandwich on his plate, hands on either side. 

The mechanical gauntlet began to hum. He tried to will it quiet, but it was arming up, he was afraid of the Widow. She was deadly. He was also afraid that she would ruin the plan. The more afraid he was, the more likely this Stark tech gauntlet would do something. The repulsor ray in the palm was powering up, and Widow knew something was going on. Bucky tried to think about calm things, but he couldn’t think of anything.

“Easy man.” He heard Wilson say. 

Wilson stood and gently grabbed him under the right armpit. Led him towards the service exit by his elbow. The doors opened directly outside. He took a moment to breathe. It looked like it might rain. Clouds had moved in, and the sky had darkened. 

“Are you okay? Or, do we need to get Tony to get that thing off?” Wilson asked.

Bucky tried to get it to power down. It was still humming, but the palm only had a faint glow. He lifted his hand towards his face to look closer, and Wilson grabbed him by the wrist. Bucky froze and looked up at Wilson.

Wilson was looking him in the eyes “Easy, man.” he said, “Keep calm. That thing is armed.” he looked down at the hand. “If you accidentally blow your head off, Cap is going to be pissed.”

The hand had begun to hum louder, he didn’t need to look down to know the palm was glowing brighter. 

Wilson’s eyes widened, “I’m getting Tony.” he said dropping Bucky’s wrist.

That wasn’t going to work. He needed the hand to save Steve. His first instinct is to knock out Wilson, then just take a Quinjet. Widow was back in there. She would hear. She was probably listening now. This was a bad plan. 

“Wait.” He asked Wilson. He needed more time to come up with a new plan. 

Wilson reached up to use his commo, and Bucky grabbed his wrist. Bucky used his right hand, intending to hold him off, get a few seconds to get out of this. Time to think of a new plan, before Stark took the gauntlet away and Bucky couldn’t save anyone. But the gauntlet sensed the threat. His subconscious didn’t want to go back to hydra defenseless. The metal wrist turned in the blink of an eye, let out a blast. It hit Wilson in the chest, blew him backwards. He landed on his back unconscious. 

Bucky reacted immediately, and raced towards the landing pad. There were a few Quinjets still powered up and humming as crews were prepping them. Two types sat on the pad, fast and nimble, or armored and slower. He ran towards a fast one. As he sprinted, he saw Widow try to head him off. She had a pistol in each hand, and as he leapt over a golf cart, he heard her fire. Felt was a more accurate description. He felt and heard the ping as she hit the metal of the gauntlet. He didn’t have time to look, but he didn’t think she left a dent. 

There was a flight tech on top of the Quinjet as he leapt on top. Bucky grabbed him by the front of his jacket and threw him off. The guy might have a few broken bones. Bucky looked back, the Widow was almost on him. He jumped down into the cockpit. She fired at the glass in front of him, most rounds bounced off, but one cracked the corner, and another punched through. It grazed his temple. She was aiming to kill. 

It only took two more seconds before he was airborne. Widow had leapt onto the wing. She lifted one arm to put a few more bullets into the canopy, and Bucky hit the controls, tipping the wing down, knocking her off. He saw her roll and dash over to another Quinjet. 

Bucky fired at the Quinjet hitting the engine, then gunned the engines and was off like a shot. 

As he was calculating the flight time to the coordinates, he looked up and Stark was flying to his right looking at him in the cockpit. 

Bucky rocked the wings, hitting Stark and sending him spinning. Stark disappeared for a second then was right back along side of him. 

Stark’s face filled up the cockpit screens. He had overridden the controls. Bucky put a fist into the screen as he helplessly watched the jet turn back towards the Avengers camp. 

“Hey! You break it, you bought it. I thought you old people were raised with manners. Didn’t anyone..”

“Hydra wants a trade.” Bucky cut him off. “They want to exchange Me for Steve.”

“You actually think I didn’t know that? You think a couple of Hydra’s idiot goons could waltz on board my waiting Quinjet, get themselves into the system and just leave a message for you to see, without me knowing?”

“Are we going to do it?”

“We were going to come up with a plan first, not just run into there blindly.”

“Land this thing so we can talk about it.” Bucky asked.

“We can discuss this back at the Training camp.” Tony said.

“If the whole Avengers show up do you think they will make the trade?” Bucky asked. “Land, so we can go over this together.” Tony disappeared from the cracked screen.

The jet started to come down at the edge of a pasture. Once on the ground, Stark walked over to the jet as Bucky climbed from the hatch. He fluidly leapt down and faced Stark as his Iron-Man mask lifted. 

“Okay big guy, what’s your plan? Because, I wanted to do this in a conference room with a latte, not in a field with cow poop.” Stark lifted one boot and looked down. “That is poop on my boot. I might have to have you wash my suit when we get back.”

While Stark was looking at the soul of his boot, Bucky deftly removed a stun charge from his belt, and grabbed Stark’s shoulder. The charge would amp up the suit, but with the visor open, it arced across the surface and Tony felt the full force of the blast. Stark reflexively jerked a few times in Bucky’s grip, but Bucky didn’t let go, even after Stark was out. The charge made Bucky’s hand numb, and his glove left a smoking handprint when he pulled away. He could feel blisters forming on his palm. He could work past them. 

Stark dropped as soon as Bucky let go. He landed on his back with a thump. Bucky yanked the gauntlet from his shoulder, ripping out the connections as it slid down his useless arm. If Stark can override the Quinjet, he can override the arm. Bucky went over to the Quinjet and pulled a panel off the bottom, he reached inside and pulled out the whole commo array. It sparked and a few spots flared up as he yanked it out and threw it to the side. Holding the gauntlet like a hammer, he smashed it. Next, he quickly stripped Stark’s Armor, then dragged him over to a tree. Leaving him leaning against the tree, Bucky went back to the smashed panel and pulled wires from the debris. Using the wires, he tied Starks wrist behind his back. Then piled the suit pieces in the field and set a charge inside. 

It would be an interesting experiment, Stark suit vs. Stark explosives. He didn’t have time to wait for the answer, just looked back to make sure Stark was out of the blast area. The trees should provide enough cover, he reasoned. He usually didn’t have to worry about people not getting killed, but he didn’t want to kill Stark, just slow him down. He actually needed him to follow, and get Steve out. Possibly get Bucky back out, too, if everything goes as planned. 

Since he has a well thought out plan, nothing should go wrong. As he flew towards the meeting, he tried to come up with a plan. Deep down he knew his plan. Trade himself for Steve. Hydra gets the Winter Soldier, Steve goes free. That was the only plan.


	14. Chapter 14

The drugs in his system made Steve blearily content to sit and examine his bound wrists. The cuffs were thick, and had colored lights. He vaguely wondered if he could smash them, but didn’t feel motivated to try. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he had slept for so long. 

Dim industrial lights hung in the carved stone corridor outside his cell, the weak light only reached about a foot into his cell. Heavy bars on the door cast sharp dark shadows. In the corridor there were more barred doors, but all of the cells were quiet and empty. Water trickled slowly down one cold stone wall. Steve guessed he was deep underground.

He heard voices at the end of the tunnel, guards moving things, checking equipment. They didn’t think he could hear them talking. He did, but nothing they said was important enough to remember. Sitting next to the door, Steve just stared out the bars waiting, unable to focus on any one thing, his mind kept drifting. Sometimes he felt like he was floating. Leaning against the wall next to the door, his eyes would drift half closed while he dozed. 

Doors opened and closed somewhere. Someone struggled, he could hear the scuffle of boots on stone. A guard cursed, then there was the crackling sound of high voltage stun batons going off. They hurt. Steve remembered them. He felt their sting in the elevator of the Triskelion building and more recently at Avengers Tower. Finally, the fight ended, and it became quiet again. A few more thumps, the thuds of boots on flesh, then the jangle of manacles, and murmured threats. Hydra guards were cruel. They didn’t make idle threats, but promises of future pain. 

More doors opened and closed. Guards dragged something towards Steve’s cell. Steve couldn’t see what was coming, the burly guards blocked his view. As they approached, they looked into Steve’s cell and laughed, then opened the door across from him. A limp figure was dropped into the dark cell. The metal door slammed closed and they walked away still laughing. At the end of the hall another metal door closed, and the thump of heavy boots eventually faded away. In the sudden silence, Steve could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

Sliding over to the doorway, Steve angled his head next to the bars, straining to see into the darkness. The man’s bare feet were in a patch of light close to the bars. He lie on his stomach and wore black tactical gear, but he had been searched and striped to pants and shirt. The cargo pockets gaped unbuttoned, and the black t-shirt was stretched out of shape and untucked from his pants. His arms must have also been bound to the front, because his body was tilted and arms hidden from view. He faced away from Steve, and was mostly shrouded in darkness. 

Steve half closed his eyes and drifted away again. His eyes stayed on the man though, watching for any movement. Steve thought he saw a glint of metal on the man’s bound arms. He thought of Bucky, hoping he was safe in New York. As he focused on the man, more of him became clear, but Steve kept thinking he saw a metal arm. It couldn’t be though. It was just the glint off of the metal manacles, or his mind playing tricks. Or the drugs, these drugs were messing with his head. He knew he needed to get his head right and get out of here, but his eyes drifted closed anyways. 

When he woke, the man still hadn’t moved. While Steve’s thoughts drifted, he stared at the man, eventually noticing the pattern in the grime on his shirt. Dusty boot prints marked the back of the black t-shirt. Now that Steve saw them, he even spotted one or two partial prints on his pants. This guy was going to be one big bruise when he woke. Steve was one big bruise when he woke too, he still ached, the bruises were still fresh enough. But the drugs were good, and as long as he floated, he didn’t care about them any more. 

While Steve blankly stared out of his cell, the man began to stir. He was the same build as Bucky is now, and for a few seconds, Steve let himself imagine that Bucky was with him. It made him feel nauseous, so he stopped. It couldn’t be Bucky, because he was with the Avengers, not here. The Avengers would keep him safe, they would never let Hydra take him again. Steve didn’t even want to consider it. Then, the guy rolled towards Steve and struggled to sit up. 

Long dark hair covered his face and he had a metal arm. Even through his drugged fog, Steve felt his heart stop. 

Bucky was sweaty and his hair was glued into a cut over his right eye. His bruised swollen eye blinked as he tried to open it and his jaw moved around before he mumbled “Steve? You okay?”

Steve just stared, and blinked hard. He needed to get it together. This was not possible. Maybe it was a Hydra trick.

Bucky closed his eyes for a minute and winced as he tried to take a deep breath. He probably had broken ribs. When they opened, his blue eyes also looked glazed, “Steve, they got me doped up.” His hands were bound in the same type of manacles Steve wore. He pulled himself forward by his right hand, inching across the floor towards the cell door. He grabbed the bars, and leaned his forehead into them. “Steve? Say something.” His voice rose a little and his breathing became faster. “Steve?”

It took Steve’s brain a few seconds to catch up. “Oh god, Buck.”

Bucky smiled. Small at first, then he beamed, then he threw his head back and laughed. There was blood on his teeth.

Steve frowned, “I don’t think they have us on the same drugs.”

“I thought” Bucky gasped, and calmed somewhat “When you didn’t say anything, I was afraid they put you in the chair.”

Steve just frowned as his brain caught up. 

Bucky’s smile dropped. “The chair that makes you forget stuff.” he added when Steve didn’t respond. “You don’t remember people lifting you out of a dentist chair, do you?”

“No, I think I’ve been in here the whole time. I don’t remember leaving.” 

“You wouldn’t remember leaving your cell. You just remember coming back. And you feel like you took on a prize fighter and lost, everything is sore. And tired.” He paused for a minute as his eyes drooped closed. “You’re exhausted, but you feel like you got something to do… you just don’t know what.” Bucky slid onto his side, rested his head on the floor and he closed his eyes. “Steve, you gotta Super Soldier us outa here.” he slurred now. He was fading out. Steve knew the feeling. Bucky’s eyes cracked open, and he watched Steve.

Steve just watched him back, “I don’t think I can this time, Buck.” His head limply rolled back to rest against the cold stone wall, eyes half closed and staring at Bucky. 

He wasn’t sure how long they both stayed there. Bucky didn’t stir except to breathe. Occasionally he would open his eyes and look up at Steve. He would beg “Come on Steve, you gotta get us outa here.” he would chant “Steve, Steve, look at me. Steve.” but Steve stayed in his fog. He tried to will it away, to come up with something coherent. But, he was shackled and drugged just like Bucky. Somehow Bucky found the strength to use his voice. Steve couldn’t think straight, he just wanted to sleep, but that never really happened either. Eventually, Steve turned away and went back to staring at the stone wall.

A few hours later, while Bucky was in the middle of a moaning “Steve, come on, Steve.” over and over for what seemed like an eternity, Steve snapped.

“Stop. Buck Stop.” he growled. Then it became silent and they both sat for a while. 

The silence made Steve’s guilt worse. He wondered long had Bucky begged for Steve to find him in the Alps? Was this the same thing he chanted when they were making him into the Winter Soldier? Steve barely made it through a few hours before he snapped at Bucky. He felt like a lout. Like the worst human on the face of the planet. Even the drugs weren’t responsible for this. He couldn’t blame them. This was just Steve being a jerk.

“Buck?” he said looking over. Bucky had rolled away, he wasn’t facing Steve anymore. “Buck, I ..I’m sorry.” Steve stammered. 

He pulled at the manacles, tried to focus. If he smashed them against the bars would they break? He willed everything he had into his arms and lifted and smashed. The bars rang, Steve’s wrists jolted with a sting of electricity, and Bucky jumped back from the bars, covering his head with his hand. 

When the crackle of electricity finished, Bucky lifted his head, and looked around. “You okay?”

“The manacles shock you if you try to break them.” Steve said dryly, and more awake now than he had been for a while.

“I could have told you that.” Bucky said, as he tried to sit up. “You okay?”

“I think all of the hair on my arms is curly now.” He said.

“It’s too blond for anyone to notice anyways.” Bucky answered. He moved around, then gave up on sitting up, just lie on his back with his head facing Steve.

They stared at each other for a minute. “How did you end up here Buck? Where is everybody else?” Steve asked.

Bucky guiltily looked away. “We were trying to get you out. It just didn’t go that well.”

“So the Avengers are out there fighting to get us out?”

“I doubt it.”

“What does that mean Buck?”

“It means some guy from Hydra set up a swap. Me for you.”

“That’s stupid, Hydra would just keep both.” 

“Of course they would.” Bucky growled “but I had to take the chance. I couldn’t let them keep you.”

After a pause, Steve asked “When is your backup getting here?”

Bucky’s eyes closed “I hope he’s trying to find us.” he slurred, he was fading out again.

When the guards came back it was ten times worse than anything Steve imagined. 

He heard them coming, could tell something was up. Marching in a tight formation, they slammed open the heavy doors then stomped down the hall. There were easily a dozen of them. Steve braced himself, and wrongly assumed they were coming for him. 

He looked over at Bucky, who was sliding back on his belly, pushing himself backwards with his hand. Keeping his hands in front, ready. Steve saw the fear in his eyes, the flesh hand was trembling. Steve hadn’t seen any sign that the metal arm was working. Bucky was backing towards the corner, he knew they were coming for him.

The men roughly slammed Bucky’s door open and crowded into the cell. Steve couldn’t see anything but their legs and backs. Bucky put up a fight for about thirty agonizing seconds. Thirty seconds goes by quickly when your not fighting for your life. If you are, it seems like an eternity. After the fight was tasered out of him, they kept at it. Bucky just lie there and made a choking noise while the guards laughed taking turns hitting him with their batons. When they got tired of the joke, they grabbed him by his armpits and dragged him from the cell. He hung limply in their grip. 

Steve didn’t realize he had been white knuckling the bars and shouting until one of the guards hit the door with a charged baton and yelled to shut up. Steve snatched the baton from his hands while the thing was still sparking and smashed it into the guys head through the bars. The guy went down in a spray of blood and the other guards jumped back, surprised. 

The baton sparked and crackled white hot in Steve’s hands. His grip never loosened, even as it burned him. 

“Let him keep it.” someone yelled about the baton. They hauled up their Hydra buddy and dragged him away too. A tall thin Hydra goon sneered, “You’ll get your turn soon enough.” and kicked at the bars. 

“Stay back from that one, he’s not broke in yet.” An older guard with a clip board said.

The last guard to walk past laughed “Once the good doctor gets here from Russia we can start the fun stuff on him too.”

Heart hammering, Steve stood there, stun baton clutched in both manacled hands, and listened to their boots as they slammed one door locked and moved away down the hall. Soon he was left in silence, just himself and his own loud breathing.


	15. Chapter 15

After a bout of frantic scrambling and pulling at bars, the adrenaline wore off and Steve just sat on the cold cell floor and waited. Blearily, he stared at the iron door at the end of the corridor. The stun baton lay on the floor nearby, rolled into a corner and forgotten. 

The last time Steve got a good look at Bucky, he looked afraid. That was before he was hidden by boots, and legs, and angry Hydra terrorists. Bucky was with them now. 

It felt like an eternity before Steve heard anything. Then he heard a click as a door unlocked, and a half dozen guards dragged Bucky back. His long dark hair was damp around the temples, and hung in front of his face. He was as limp and unresponsive as when they brought him in the first time. The guards dumped him in his cell and left. They skirted Steve’s cell, and barely even glanced his way. Steve hid the baton concealed beneath his leg. Hiding it was a useless gesture, since the guards knew he had it. 

This time Bucky recovered faster. It only took about ten minutes, then he rolled onto his side, letting out a loud sigh and blinking his eyes open.

Kneeling at the door, Steve asked “Hey, Buck. Bucky, you with me?” 

Bucky sat up with a grumble and reached up with his manacled hand to push his hair behind his ear. He looked around the cell, then stood up. Testing the bars, he pulled on the door with his flesh hand. The metal arm looked like the shoulder had some new panels, but the hand still looked limp. 

“Buck, you okay?” Steve asked “Did they work on your arm?”

He blinked over at Steve, then frowned down at his arm “They performed maintenance on the cybernetic. It needs to be fully functional before cryo freeze.”

Anxiously, Steve asked “Is it functional yet? Do we have time before they try to freeze you? Do they have the cryo equipment here?” Steve was getting worked up, the drugs were almost out of his system. He would fight them this time. They wouldn’t take Bucky again.

Bucky was still examining the cell, looking around. Steve prodded “Buck?”

Standing with his back straight, Bucky turned towards Steve. “I am not functional yet. They said there would be at least four more repairs necessary. An interface specialist is being brought in, he is still en-route. The cryo unit in the lab. I don’t understand the other question. Time for what?” he stood in the middle of the cell and looked at Steve. His eyes were cold.

Steve stood up, he clutched the stun baton in his manacled hands. Bucky looked down at it and took a step back with one foot. He was moving into a fighting stance.

Steve asked “Do you know my name?”

Bucky looked like he was thinking for a second, then shook his head no.

“Do you know your name?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked irritated now, and glanced down the hall at the big metal door. “You called me Buck or Bucky, but that means nothing to me.” He stepped up to the bars “How do you know me? Who are you?”

Steve spent the next few hours telling Bucky who James Buchanan Barnes was.

Hearing footsteps, Steve jumped up before the door at the end of the hall had even opened. Bracing himself against the wall next to the door, Steve tried to use his body to pop the hinges. The door creaked, and dust trickled out from behind the screws. Standing next to the bars of his own cell, Bucky coldly watched Steve. His expression never changed. 

Straining, Steve put all of his strength into breaking the hinge. He felt dizzy after a few seconds, and fell to one knee. Steve grabbed the baton, and charged it up. 

One good kick to the middle of the door should have him free. Then he could get Bucky away from Hydra.

At the end of the hall the door slammed open. Steve was ready. He slumped down, sitting on the floor and leaned heavily against the wall. He half closed his eyes and pretended to be still under the influence of the drug.

When they came within ten feet of him, a guard at the front pulled out a weapon. The guards all paused while he shot Steve with another tranquilizer. Steve tried to pull out the dart as soon as it hit, but it felt like time was slowing. His legs became rubbery as he jumped up to push at the door. Listing to the side he grabbed the bars for balance. He gripped the baton tightly in one hand, but the Hydra guards just stayed out of arm’s reach. 

A tall mean looking guard unlocked Bucky’s cell, and gestured for him to come out. Bucky nodded and walked out between them down the hall. 

The last guard past Steve’s cell looked Steve dead in the eyes and smiled. “He’s back where he belongs” he said, and Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It didn’t seem to take long before they brought Bucky back, but Steve knew he lost some time. He passed out shortly after they took Bucky, and when he woke, the door was reinforced. Shiny new latches were welded onto the door, and the baton was gone. 

The third time they brought Bucky to his cell, he was again completely limp. They dragged him back by his shoulders and dumped him onto the cold floor. He stayed as he had been dropped, on his stomach with one arm over his head, and the metal one trapped under his body. There were no manacles this time. Steve tried calling his name, but there was no response. Every minute felt like an eternity waiting for Bucky to open his eyes.

Eventually, Bucky rolled onto his back. He still had his right hand over his head and now the left was out to his side. Steve saw he had a red mark around his left eye. It made Steve’s chest tight, knowing they were taking Bucky’s memories. Seeing the evidence, was almost too much. He would kill them when they came back. Rage made him see red, then he noticed Bucky’s eyes cracked open. Glassy blue eyes slowly roamed the room, taking in his surroundings. 

This time when Steve called out to him, his eyes slowly drifted over. Even with Steve leaning against the bars, it took Bucky a few seconds to figure out where Steve was. Nothing on him moved, just his eyes. Steve asked how he was, and there was no response. 

Mostly to reassure himself, Steve said “We’re gonna be okay. We will get out of this.” 

Bucky’s eyes roamed the room again, but eventually they came back to Steve. 

Steve started talking again, “This place reminds me of the alley behind the Beacon Theater. It had the same gray stone, and the alley was always damp. I wonder why?” Bucky’s eyes looked up at the stone around him. The fingers on his right hand over his head twitched. He pulled in a shuddery breath, and his eyes blinked hard. 

Steve could tell he was trying to come around, and kept up the one sided conversation. 

Steve spent the next few hours telling Bucky who James Buchanan Barnes was, all over again. 

Staring at the ceiling Bucky didn’t seem to be listening, he rarely even looked around, let alone looked at Steve. Undeterred, Steve kept talking. Sometimes Bucky’s eyes drifted closed, but Steve just told his stories louder. A few hours later, Steve also started to drift off during the retelling of a story about a pie eating contest when Bucky smiled. It didn’t last long, but Steve was certain he didn’t imagine it, or dream it. 

During a story about Thanksgiving, Bucky asked “Why did you let German Johnson hit you?”

“What?” Steve asked. “You mean Jerry? Jerry Johnson? You remember that jerk?” 

“I remember him hitting you.” He said, looking over at Steve. “He beat you to a pulp. Why would you let him do that?”

Steve laughed “That wasn’t my goal. I was trying to fight back, you jerk.”

Bucky struggled to lean up onto an elbow and stared at Steve. He seemed to be studying him “You don’t look like what I remember when I hear your voice.”

Unsure, Steve frowned, “That’s a long story.”

“I think we have time” Bucky said.

Changing the subject, Steve replied “How about I tell you about the time it snowed for a week and we actually tried to build an igloo.” 

Hours later, Hydra came back. They shot Steve with the tranquilizer, and told Bucky to stand. He fluidly came to attention and followed them from the room. Immediately the drug hit Steve’s system, dragging him down and making everything feel heavy. Luckily, when they fired, the dart hit Steve in the collar bone and he dislodged it with a clumsy swat before it put him too far under.

Steve moaned, “No. No. Bucky. Fight them.”

That was all it took. 

Bucky’s right hand reached up and snatched the man’s tranquilizer gun, twisted his arm with a snap and shoved him into the others. As they fell in a tangle of limbs, Bucky stomped bones, and kicked one in the head as he reached for a weapon. Bucky didn’t fight like Steve, he was brutal and efficient. His goal was to kill, and kill quickly.

Silence followed. Steve was stunned. Bucky looked back at him then turned and stared at the bodies around his own feet. 

Steve finally found his voice, the drug still fogging up his thoughts. “Buck. Look at me, Buck. We have to get out of here.” 

Bucky was still looking down, then he crouched, and pulled one man’s hand from the tangle of limbs. He grabbed it by the wrist, and pulled the man out of the pile, easily lifting the two hundred pound man. Steve could see from the way the man’s head was twisted, that his neck was broken. Bucky dropped him, then went into the man’s pocket and pulled out the key card to Steve’s cell.

Looking at the guards, Steve noticed that none of them carried any weapons but stun batons, manacles, and one tranquilizer pistol. There was no way to arm themselves to fight a base full of Hydra. 

Before Steve even got his feet under him, Bucky reached into the cell, grabbed his upper arm and hauled him upright, and out of the cell. Leaving Steve leaning against the wall, he turned to the body on the floor, grabbed it by the back of the jacket, and dragged it along with him. 

A heavy iron door sealed the end of the hall. When Bucky reached the door, he swiped the card again, and put the man’s limp hand against the sensor. The door clicked open, and Bucky walked through, still dragging the corpse. Steve followed on unsteady legs, using the wall for support.

The next corridor wasn’t as long, but it was also blocked by a large iron door. This time Bucky pushed Steve behind him and held up the corpse by the back of the neck. Holding it in front of his chest, Bucky used the body like a shield. 

As soon as the door clicked unlocked, Bucky pushed through. He tackled a guard and grabbed his pistol. Throwing the body to the side, the carnage began. The fight was over in minutes. Most were deadly head shots, Bucky didn’t waste any time, and he didn’t miss. 

Roughly a dozen technicians and guards worked in this office area. Bucky shot the guards fist, then the technicians were easy to pick off after the guards were down. Steve could see that the technicians knew how to handle their weapons, but they were no match for Bucky. It was like he was shooting targets, Bucky’s expression never changed, and he never flinched. Even when a shot hit the wall right by his face.

Steve stood in the doorway, watching. He may have flinched a little himself when the round came so close to killing Bucky. 

“Through here.” Bucky said, and Steve followed.

Pausing for a second, Steve got himself a weapon from one of the bodies. As they made their way through the facility, they found more scientists, equipment, and a maze of corridors. Most technicians fled when they saw Bucky. The Hydra guards attacked, but Bucky mowed through them. Any time there was a better weapon to be found, Bucky rearmed himself. 

Swiftly they made their way up through the stairwells. When they hit the ground floor, Bucky pushed through the door first. Weapon up and firing, he moved out into a hail of bullets. Soon after exiting the door, Bucky was hit in the side, but it didn’t faze him. He just continued on his mission. 

Steve tried to provide cover, taking out quite a few Hydra on his own, using the doorway wall to steady his stance and his aim. Suddenly, Bucky turned back and ran towards Steve. He shoved Steve back into the stairwell, covering him as an explosive went off and everything went black.


	16. Chapter 16

Smoke swirled and debris drifted down as Steve opened his eyes. His ears were ringing, and the vision in his left eye was blurry. Gingerly, he rolled over pushing himself to sit up. He looked over at Bucky, who moved sluggishly and uncoordinated. Bucky seemed dazed, the disabled left arm not the only thing hindering him. Finally, Bucky raised himself onto his hands and knees, pushing himself away from Steve. He tried to stand, and stumbled back to his knees. Crawling, Bucky leaned his forearm on the doorframe for balance. His whole left shoulder hung low, the arm dragging and useless. A pistol was clutched in his right hand, and he struggled hold himself up and keep a grip on to the weapon. 

Wetness dripped into the corner of Steve’s eye. He ran his hand over his forehead and it came away bloodied. While Steve looked around for his weapon, Bucky charged back into the room. Losing sight of Bucky, Steve scrambled to follow. The room beyond the doorway was ablaze, and full of black smoke, and gunfire. 

Frantically looking around, Steve opened his mouth to call out for Bucky. Before Steve made a sound, he saw Bucky. In the haze billowing smoke, Bucky was standing in the middle of the room. He was looking up, out a large hole where the roof had been blown off. 

Blue sky showed at the edges of the column of smoke and burning embers. Standing motionless with his pistol raised, Bucky was watching for something. Suddenly, he turned and fired into the sky. Horrified, Steve watched Sam tumble from the sky to crash outside.

“No.” Steve screamed, running towards Bucky “Buck, no.” He yelled again, just as Bucky turned, firing at a quinjet as it came into view. Seconds later, a Hydra rocket also hit the quinjet sending it spinning away. Finally, Steve was close enough to grab Bucky’s shoulder. He whirled at Steve, raising his weapon. 

Deflecting the barrel of the gun, Steve pushed it to the side. The barrel was hot, and Steve felt the jerk as the weapon fired, narrowly missing both of them. Bucky pulled the pistol back towards himself, attempting to get it out of Steve’s grip. With a growl, Bucky twisted the weapon and stepped closer. Steve kept his grip on the pistol and Bucky tried elbowing Steve in the ribs in an attempt to pull the gun free one handed. 

“Stop. Bucky, Stop. ” Steve yelled, grappling for the weapon.

Bucky looked confused for half a second, then their eyes met. Steve could see the recognition on Bucky’s face as his mouth opened on a gasp. Eyes widening Bucky glanced over Steve’s shoulder, “Get down.” He barked, then pushed Steve towards an overturned cabinet. Two small rockets roared past, hitting the wall behind them, throwing Bucky on top of Steve.

Dust and shrapnel rained down onto them. After the explosions, Bucky didn’t move. Carefully, Steve rolled Bucky back. He was unconscious, and bloodied. Flames were quickly spreading. Steve scooped him up, carrying him, picking through the wreckage away from the fire. 

Within seconds, Bucky was coming around, and he shifted, moving to push out of Steve’s grip. Steve just held on tighter, trying to get them both to safety. Bucky’s hand reached around between himself and Steve, and Steve had to struggle to keep a grip. 

“Hold Still.” Steve growled.

After a sharp tug, Bucky pulled another pistol from his waistband. The movement made Steve’s grip slip, and Bucky tumbled to his knees. Steve hauled him up by the metal shoulder, and tried to push him outside. 

They emerged from the building, covered in soot and still inside the wave of billowing smoke. A blinding flash of lightning lit up the sky, while a deafening thunder-clap shook the ground, and Steve was relieved to see Thor lower himself into a field in front of them. 

The chaos around them made it hard for Steve to tell what was going on. Through the smoke, Steve saw that Clint was helping Sam, who was thankfully up on his own feet. Sam looked bruised and bloodied, but very much alive. 

Another underground bunker had it’s doors rolled open, and mammoth armored vehicles were rumbling out. Even with the latest Hydra weapons, the tanks were no match for Hulk. He had yanked the cannon barrel off of one vehicle and was currently using it to smash the others. Three already lay flipped and burning, one partially in a tree barely feet away from where Steve was standing. Or, rather it was leaning against the tree, upside down. The tread on the right partially off, and the one on the left making a grinding noise. 

Nearby, a tank fired a round close to Thor, who responded with another bolt of lightning that lit up the sky, and left Steve seeing spots. Steve turned to check on Bucky, only to find him gone.

Turning a circle, Steve tried to see a sign of where he went. Natasha emerged from behind the wreckage of a nearby tank, holding her elbow as it dripped blood. Thor walked towards her. She looked past Thor at Steve and smiled, then pointed to his left, to the forest behind Steve. 

Steve turned, and ran through the trees. Eventually, he found a boot print and shortly after, he came across Bucky standing in the dense forest.

Bucky was facing away, leaning against a tree. As Steve approached, he looked at Steve over his shoulder. His shoulders were slumped, he looked tired.

“Where are you going Buck?” Steve asked gently. He didn’t want to spook him.

“I don’t know.” he looked down. “I don’t know.” he repeated softer.

Steve looked at Bucky who was covered in blood, bruises, soot, and sweat. Blood matted the hair over his ear and ran down the side of his face. Occasionally, a drop would fall from under his chin, or roll down his neck in thin rivers of pink bloodied sweat. 

As Steve approached, Bucky said “My ears are still ringing.” then slid down the tree to sit. 

“Yeah, mine too.” Steve said, lowering himself down next to Bucky. “Are you good to walk back? Or, do you need some help?”

“I just need a minute.” he said with a sigh.

Relaxing against the tree, Steve said. “Me too.”

They both sat in silence for a few minutes, when Steve heard a twig snap. They both looked over and saw a tall man in a crisp Hydra officer’s uniform. 

Jet black hair slicked back and a broad smile, the Hydra officer crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at them, “That was quite a show. You two are quite formidable. Quite the team.” 

Steve felt Bucky shift, ready to raise his weapon. The Hydra officer turned his back on them, walking back into the woods. “With the proper conditioning, you two will be unstoppable. ” He continued, then with more force he added “Come, Soldiers.” 

Bucky stood, and Steve stood next to him. Bucky was holding his weapon, finger on the trigger. They looked at each other, and Bucky aimed the pistol at Steve. Bucky’s eyes were cold and his grip was steady, focused.

“Buck?” Steve asked.

The Hydra officer called out, “Come now. We don’t have much time before your Avengers will suspect something.” He was walking into a clearing, and a Hydra aircraft uncloaked directly in front of him. As he walked, a door lowered to the ground. It’s metal steps led up into the back of the aircraft. A lone pilot sat at the controls. 

“Buck?” Steve asked again. They had just gone through an entire Hydra base, but one man and his pilot were going to take them back. Steve tried to think fast. If he hit Bucky’s wrist, he could take the gun and shoot the officer. He wasn’t going to let them take Bucky back. 

They walked slowly towards the aircraft. Just as Steve mentally braced himself to strike, the officer turned back and took a step down the ramp. “You two are filthy. Sit on the floor when you enter the..”

Two shots, and the officer and pilot were dead. 

Bucky walked up the ramp, pushing the dead officer off of the ramp with his boot. He looked back at Steve, his stare was still cold.

“What the hell, Buck?” Steve said.

“Was I supposed to tell you the plan? I think Commander Griffith woulda heard me.” He said, dragging the pilot to the back and dumping him onto the grass next to the stairs.

Taking a seat in the pilot’s chair, Bucky hit the switch to raise the ramp. He looked over at Steve “Coordinates?” he asked as he begun flicking switches and they became airborne.

Steve sat heavily into the seat next to Bucky. “Okay, coordinates…” he ran his hand over his mouth, and looked over at Bucky. “The team looks like they have this handled. Let’s just get back.” 

Bucky stopped the aircraft at the top of the trees. They just hovered there, and he looked over at Steve again. “Coordinates?” he repeated.

Steve stared at Bucky, while Bucky looked back at Steve. Finally, Steve sighed, “I guess up here,” he leaned over and put his finger down on a screen, pointing out the Avengers training camp on the map. 

Steve wasn’t completely sure if the Avengers had the Hydra base handled, but he was out of this fight. Hydra did something to Bucky when they took him, and Steve was getting him away. Steve needed to be someplace safe, if there was anyplace safe. He had thought SHIELD was safe, and that turned out to be so wrong. Steve was tired, he just leaned back in the seat and watched Bucky fly.

From the copilot’s chair, Steve watched as Bucky flew the aircraft with the ease of an experienced pilot. During the flight, Bucky glanced over at Steve once. Steve realized he had been staring, but Bucky didn’t comment on it, and Steve was too exhausted to even try to hide it.

As soon as they landed, Pepper came running onto the airfield. When Steve stepped out, she rushed forward. “Steve, are you okay?” 

“No. I don’t think we are.” Steve answered, looking back inside the aircraft. Bucky stepped out of the pilot’s chair and walked down the ramp, silently following. A breeze ruffled Steve’s hair, and he felt a chill as he looked over at Bucky.


	17. Chapter 17

The Hydra plane made a hissing noise as the engines cooled. Steve stood at the base of the ramp and looked over at Bucky.

Pepper puts her hand on Steve’s shoulder. It startles him, and he slowly turns towards her. Pepper is speaking. She had been speaking from the looks of it. Steve was listening to her now, but was having trouble processing what she was saying. Looking her over, Steve notices she’s in casual clothes, A white sweater and slacks. Steve wasn’t sure how often he had seen her dressed in something other than suits. It wasn’t often. 

Standing nearby, Bucky looked at her and said “He’s been drugged.” and Steve suddenly felt insulted. 

“And you’ve been shot… and drugged.” Steve said. He realized that Pepper had been trying to pull him inside, but he was just standing there. Their flight back to safety left him tired. Now that the adrenaline was gone, he was dead on his feet and ready to crash. 

He knew they must have been a sight. Both were bloodied and filthy, neither wore shoes, and Steve felt more than one cut on his feet. It was making him limp. They must have looked terrible, Bucky more so than Steve, but his posture was still straight, while Steve felt like he could fall asleep standing.

Bucky glanced at him, then over at the medical team who hovered near an open doorway. “The medical personnel are waiting for you.” He looked Steve over “Can you get to them, or should I have them come to you?” He looked at Pepper, “The plane is Hydra, but we are not. If that has them worried.”

She looked a little guilty, “I told them to let me handle the greetings. Can I let them come here?”

“Yes.” Bucky answered. “He needs medical attention.”

Pepper lifted one eyebrow at Bucky, but otherwise didn’t comment. Steve saw it and smiled. Bucky looked at Steve and narrowed his eyes. 

The medical team swiftly and efficiently helped them into an wing full of strange machines and glass walls. Both, Steve and Bucky walked in on their own, waving away the offer of being carried on a gurney. Steve was too proud, and Bucky, well Steve wasn’t sure what his motivations were. Once, he knew how Bucky thought, but not now.

The medical wing had very white rooms. Everything was so white, Steve felt guilty about how much soot, dirt and blood he was about to get on everything he touched. They’ll have one heck of a cleaning bill. Hopefully Tony invented a fabric that resists dirt. The medical team veered Steve into one room, and tried to usher Bucky into another, but he followed Steve into his room instead. Efficiently, a young male nurse helped Steve out of what was left of his clothes. They were torn, and bloodied, and Steve was left standing in his underwear. 

While folding up his pants, Steve looked at Bucky and said “You need to let them stitch you up.”

Bucky looked over at the nurse who lifted his eyebrow expectantly, but didn’t say anything. Hesitantly, the nurse said “I can check the wound in here, if that’s where you want to be.”

Immediately, Bucky reached over his head and yanked his shirt off. It caught for a second on the heavy left arm, but he tugged it free. The metal arm dropped back down to his side, it was limp and heavy. It dragged his whole left shoulder down. Silently, Bucky dropped the shirt on the ground and stood there in the middle of the room. Bucky’s eyes followed the nurse, and it was obvious the nurse was wary of Bucky. Steve was relieved they knew how dangerous Bucky could be, but it still made him sad.

A tall woman in a white lab coat came into the room with a tray of medical equipment. She looked around, then spoke to the nurse, “Are we treating them both in here? Why aren’t we using the other room?” She asked gesturing out into another room across the hall. Bucky didn’t budge.

Steve sat on the bed “We can stay here. We don’t mind sharing. Much nicer place than we just came from.” He tried to joke. 

No one laughed. 

Steve gave an awkward smile. “Have a seat Buck.” he said and patted the bed beside him. Without saying anything, Bucky turned and sat.

Bucky glanced over at Steve, but his eyes were mostly following the tray of medical equipment, as the woman set it on a table beside the bed. She didn’t use the same caution as the male nurse. Instead, she moved into Bucky’s space with a careless ease that worried Steve. She leaned in and examined the bullet wound in Bucky’s side, running a gloved hand over the skin beside it.   
Next, she took a light and stepped right between Buck’s legs. She leaned close, shining the light into his eyes. 

Bucky had been still as a statue, and his face remained expressionless, right until she leaned in and checked his pupils. Steve watched as his eyes widened, while the rest of him remained perfectly still. He even stopped breathing. Within seconds, she had moved the light away, and was poking at the raw skin around Bucky’s temple. She held his chin, moving his head around to examine the open wound. Bucky sucked in a shaky breath as soon as she stepped away. 

Grabbing a tablet, She waived it over Bucky, walking around him. While staring at her screen, she ran her hand over his hip, and prodded another bloody wound. Steve hadn’t even noticed that one. 

“There is another bullet in here.” She said. 

“In his hip? Did it hit any organs?” Steve asked, his voice higher than he intended. 

“It’s lodged in muscle. There isn’t any organ damage showing on the scan. He has been grazed a few times, but three bullets are lodged in the muscle, and there is shrapnel that has to be removed.”

Pausing to type something into the scanner, she looked at Steve and added “An interesting note, is that the bullet that grazed his shoulder before he went on this rescue mission, is showing a remarkable rate of recovery. It’s well on its way to being fully healed.” She moved in to scan Bucky from head to foot. She stopped on his right calf, crouching down to cut away the pants. A bullet wound sluggishly dripped blood from the side of his leg. Steve didn’t like the way she talked about Bucky, not to him.

“This wound for example has an exit wound over here.” She poked her finger into another bloody spot. Bucky’s eyes followed her, but he didn’t flinch when she poked her finger into the wound. She looked up at Bucky’s face. “Didn’t that hurt?” she asked curiously.

Steve barked “Of course it hurt. Quit poking him, and start stitching him up.” 

She jumped, startled by his anger and stood quickly “Sorry, I’ve never met a gunshot victim who seems so unaffected.” She turned to the doorway as another woman entered. “Get him prepped for the O.R. I’ll assess Captain Rogers.” then returned her concentration to the scanner as she moved closer to Steve.

Bucky’s eyes flicked over to Steve, they were wide and darted back and forth between the people in the room. 

The male Nurse left, and came back wheeling a gurney toward their doorway. He came inside and asked Bucky “Can you walk this far? Or, do you need me to move it closer?” Steve noticed he didn’t offer to help Bucky onto the gurney. This guy had more self preservation instinct than the woman did.

While she scanned Steve, she said “Sergeant Barnes has a bullet inside his hip. He needs to remove his pants.” She said moving towards Bucky to point out the wound to the Nurse. As she reached out, Bucky blocked with the flat of his palm. His expression wasn’t changed, but the medical personnel looked surprised. The woman snatched back her hand, the nurse took a step back, and the other female in the room, quietly exited. 

The other female quickly came back with an IV. She had a kind smile and nice brown eyes. Gently she put her hand on Bucky’s arm. “Hi, I’m Susan. We’re going to get an IV into you, so Doctor Camden can get you stitched up.” She glanced over at the Woman who must be Doctor Camden. Steve watched Susan work. She was gentle and efficient, and Bucky’s eyes never left her hands as she worked. Steve was glad someone was polite. He was starting to get ticked off.

Doctor Camden started to tell Steve about the Hydra cocktail of drugs he had in his system, but he only half listened. 

Suddenly, Steve blurted out, “Hey, Bucky has the same stuff in him. Is that going to affect surgery?”

Doctor Camden had resumed her scans of Steve and answered without stopping. “He should be fine. Ordinarily, we would use a local anesthetic, since none of his injuries are near any of his vital organs, and they don’t seem to be bothering him. But, given his history of violence, we will try to protect the medical team and use a strong anesthesia, keeping him unconscious for the procedure.” 

Steve just blinked at her. He kept thinking that she didn’t seem like a bad person, but Steve liked Susan a lot more. Doctor Camden and Stark probably got along great, all techno jargon that only people with a doctorate in the same field could understand. Steve was convinced Doctor Camden looked at people like puzzles to be solved, just like Stark looked at machines.

Pepper suddenly popped her head in. “Sorry to disturb you both, but I thought you would want to know Tony sent word that the team has finished up. The last of the Hydra operatives are in custody, and they should be on their way back in about an hour.” 

She kept her eyes on Steve’s face while she spoke. Then smiled at Doctor Camden and the nurses while Steve said “Thanks Pepper. For everything.” 

She just smiled and said “No need to thank me. I’ll make sure there’s a hot meal ready for you two when you’re done.”

“Oh God, yes. I’m starved.” Steve said with a groan, while dramatically clutching his stomach. 

Bucky looked at Steve with wide eyes until Steve and Pepper laughed. After a second, he rolled his eyes. This made Steve really laugh. Steve laughed harder than he should have. It bubbled up out of him when he saw Bucky roll his eyes. 

When Steve finally got himself under control, Pepper rolled her eyes also, and said “I’ll talk to you two after you get stitched up.”

Doctor Camden produced something she called a counteragent that she had Steve drink. It tasted and had the consistency of mud. After Steve choked it down he felt less groggy. 

The medical staff was starting to get antsy about Bucky, as he sat bleeding on their white furniture. Steve was worried that Bucky wouldn’t allow them to put him under. Thankfully, Steve saw Susan put something in his IV. Before long Bucky’s stiff posture relaxed, and when they asked him to get on the gurney again, he turned his head and looked over at Steve. 

Smiling, Steve stood and helped Bucky to his feet, then Steve grabbed the IV pole and they slowly walked to the gurney. After Bucky was settled back, the medical staff began to roll him away. Steve followed, watching Bucky stare at the ceiling. As they approached another room, someone handed Steve scrubs which he slipped on right there in the hallway. 

Finally, someone pointed to some chairs and asked Steve to wait in the hall, which surprised him since he was wearing scrubs. He realized they wanted to give him his decency, instead of waiting in his skivvies. 

Going over to the Gurney, he looked down at Bucky, “Hey, Buck Stark only hires the best. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

Bucky’s eyes roamed the room slowly, and he had been doing a slow blink for a minute now. While Steve was watching the blinks became longer, before his eyes finally stayed closed. The male nurse nodded at Steve, then pushed Bucky into the operating room. 

Steve watched through the window in the door, and the procedure didn’t take long. Most of the wounds were washed and bandaged by nurses, while Doctor Camden cleaned out the gunshot wounds. She didn’t even stitch them closed, just grabbed a fat tube and squirted some sort of glue on there. 

Soon enough, they wheeled Bucky back out, and into another room. A new female nurse with long blond hair came in and got Steve settled in, and some real clothes. After she left, Steve sat in a chair next to Bucky and read the news on a tablet. 

Minutes after Steve was settled in the recovery room, Bucky blinked over at him. “Are you gonna be here when they’re done?” he slurred.

Steve laughed “They are done, Buck.”

“Hmm” Bucky looked like he was trying to process. “I went under?”

“Yup. You’ve been under over a half hour.” 

“They only took a half hour?”

“Yeah. They used glue. No stitches. It was amazingly fast. Coulda used some glue like that in our day. Huh?”

Raising his head about an inch before dropping back, Bucky asked, “They leave the bullets in?”

“What? No. Lord, No. They got them out.”

“Yeah… That’s good… I’m hungry. Did they say we could eat?” he sounded tired, his voice was soft, and his eyes slowly fluttered closed.

Just then there was a commotion in the hall and Stark stomped into the room. 

Bucky woke with a start, and tried to sit up. Steve just put a hand on his shoulder, and gently pushed him back down. “Easy, Buck...” Steve was saying when Stark started to talk right over him.

“Serves you right, getting shot up rescuing Rogers.” Stark said pointing at Bucky. 

“What is wrong with you? He just came out of surgery.” Steve yelled.

Stark made a face “Surgery shmurgery, Camden said he was in no danger. Just a flesh wound for a super soldier like him.” Stark held a blackened dented helmet under his arm. “Not like taking a mere mortal, a genius mortal, but sadly mortal none the less, and leaving them to die of exposure, or thirst, or starvation. I could have been eaten by wolves.”

Steve cut in “What are you talking about?”

“Why don’t you ask your sidekick?” he smirked “Huh, Barnes. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Leave him out of this.” Steve barked, and tried to get Bucky to stop trying to sit up. 

“Leave him out of this? Didn’t he tell you during his daring rescue, that he left me tied to a tree and blew up my armor? Oh yeah, I could have been blown up or burned to death in a forest fire. Then who would have fixed your arm. Which looks like it has been fixed by the way.” Tony picked up a tablet. “Did they put the core back in? It looks like it’s powered down, but fully functional.” Then Stark’s eyes widened and he frowned. Tony stopped scanning and stepped back. “Steve maybe we should talk in the hallway.”

“Why? Anything you have to say, you can say here.” Steve was puffed up and angry.

“Okaayy,” Stark was stalling and moving towards the doorway. Steve stood up straight, and Bucky sat up as soon as Steve stopped waving him back down. When Stark stepped from the room, he slid the door closed and hit a few buttons. Soon a robot much like Dum-E came rolling up. 

“Stark, what are you doing? What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“Well, it looks like they gave our buddy an upgrade. They used his power core and turned him into a bomb that could level a city block. Once the facility is clear, we can downgrade him from a high tech suicide bomber, to a run of the mill cyborg.” 

Bucky turned and looked at Steve “Let Steve out.” Bucky said.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Steve crossed his arms.

“Do you know how to disable a bomb?” Bucky said angrily.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Steve stood his ground.

“Your call,” Stark said “From these scans it looks like they were still working on the bomb when you guys busted out. Bomb’s not active, but the circuitry is in place and programming is loaded. The arm hasn’t been powered up yet. Once that’s done, Bomb comes on line. It’s remotely triggered, in case he falls into the wrong hands. Or, non Hydra hands. Good thing we caught that in the scan before we turned it on. Safe scanning and all that.” Stark said from behind the door as he put his helmet back on, lowering the visor.

It only took Stark and his robot minutes to reroute the circuits and take out the programming. Steve stayed by Bucky’s side for the entire procedure. 

After the excitement of the surgery and bomb removal, Bucky was pale and looked exhausted. Dark rings were under his eyes, and even after Tony finished he stayed lying on his back with his eyes closed. He wasn’t actually asleep yet, Steve could tell. But, he was wore out.

Tony told them he had taken some more scans and would go over them in his lab. He would come back in a half hour. Steve could see that Tony was doing it to give Bucky a chance to recover. He could be a good guy, sometimes. 

Minutes after Stark called the all clear, Steve saw Sam hobbling into the Medical Wing. Steve had one hand on Bucky’s arm as he rested, and gave Sam a quick wave. Sam gave Steve the raised eyebrow, and Steve frowned. Bucky had opened his eyes, and saw Steve’s silent conversation with Sam. He immediately sat up to see who Steve was frowning at.

Sam came a little closer, and Bucky’s eyes widened. “I shot you out of the sky.” He said frowning.

“Yes you did. Thank You. Ruined a perfectly good harness, and nearly broke my leg.” Sam said with fake anger.

Bucky looked down at Sam’s leg. “Steve said to fight.” He looked over at Steve “I didn’t know we had reinforcements.”

Steve gave Sam a half smile, “Actually, I didn’t know we had reinforcements either. Sorry.”

Sam looked them both over, “You know if you keep this up, I’m gonna have a complex. I still haven’t forgotten you knocking me out to go save Steve. Teamwork man, Teamwork.” Sam said smiling.

Steve looked at Bucky “You knocked him out?”

Sam laughed “Shot me with a repulsor ray, shot at Nat from a quinjet, and left Stark tied to a tree in the woods. I would have loved to be the first guy who found him.” 

Both Steve and Sam were laughing, but Bucky was frowning. Bucky was staring at the floor. “I don’t remember that..”

Sam and Steve stopped laughing. Sam said “What’s the farthest back you remember?”

Bucky looked up at him. “I remember a room with a lot of people. Scientists maybe. I think it might have been a lab? I was in a chair. Then, I returned to my cell…” He looked at Steve “The one next to yours.”

“Shit.” Sam whispered. 

Steve looked away. He knew. He hated to admit it, but he knew.


	18. Chapter 18

Sam looked at Steve, “Natasha found the equipment for a memory wipe at the Hydra base. I just assumed they didn’t have time to use it, since when we got there, you two were already fighting your way out. Are you saying they wiped his memory?” 

Sitting up on the bed, in a hospital gown and fresh out of surgery, Bucky was watching both of them. His pale tired face was unreadable and blank. His eyes though, betrayed him as they darted back and forth between Sam and Steve, trying to piece together what was happening.

Steve looked at his feet. “Twice. They took him away twice.”

Bucky also dropped his gaze, his eyes still moving, searching. He bit the inside of his lip.

Sam looked back and forth between them, and said “But, it didn’t take. He’s still on our side.” Neither Steve nor Bucky were looking at him. 

Steve took a shaky breath, looked up and smiled. His eyes were shiny and he gave a nod.

Sam sighed, “Barnes you are one tough mother. Glad you’re on our side.”

Bucky gave a half smile. Hesitantly, he said, “When I woke up in the chair, they told me a bunch of garbage about saving the world, and making the world a better place. But, just looking at them made my stomach turn. Everything felt so wrong, but I ..I believed them, I guess. They said the treatments were necessary. And after, when I got thrown back in the cell, I just wanted to sleep. I felt like I could sleep for a hundred years, but this guy wouldn’t shut up. He sounded sick with worry, and ..I could tell what he said was true.” Bucky looked over at Steve. “Who makes up stuff that stupid?”

Steve laughed. “It wasn’t all bad.”

“You told stories about getting your butt kicked in an alley by that Johnson kid. ”

“You brought up Johnson, not me.”

“Well, you were taking a stroll down memory lane, I wanted to contribute.”

“Of course you remembered that.” Steve laughed. 

Bucky looked away. His face fell, “I can’t remember anything else.” Then he looked at Sam. “Does Doc Cameron know about the chair? Is it permanent?” He looked at Steve, “If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t even know my own name. They said I was made to save the world. How could I do that, if I couldn’t even remember who I am?”

“Camden” Steve answered. 

Bucky looked at him “What?”

“Camden.” He repeated “The doctors name is Camden.”

“What the hell Steve? I can’t remember yesterday and you want me to remember her name.” Bucky said angrily shaking her head.

“Sorry. You used to do that to the doctors when I got sick.” Steve said

“Why would I do that? That doesn’t make any sense?” 

“You did it to the doctors you didn’t like.” Steve looked out the door of the recovery room. “I’m going to ask Tony if they have another doctor who can help.”

Sam smiled “That sounds like a good idea. I met that Camden after being knocked unconscious by someone who shall remain nameless.” Sam paused for dramatic effect, but no one even blinked at the joke. “Anyway, they have another doc, who is good with brain scans. I’ll go ask him to come in here.”

Steve looked at Bucky “Great, Sam. Great.”

As Sam left, Bucky grumbled “I don’t know what’s so great about having someone else messing around with my head.”

“We need to know what’s going on, Buck.” 

“Easy for you to say, They aren’t poking around in your head.” Bucky said with a scowl.

Sam came back with a tall thin doctor who shook hands with Bucky and Steve, then rolled an apparatus into the room that looked like a glass box on a lamp stand. After the introductions, Sam discretely left. The Doctor had Bucky sit under the glass box for a few minutes and try not to move his head, while he uploaded data into a hand-held device. Steve watched a drop of sweat roll down the side of Bucky’s face, while he remained motionless and strangely expressionless. 

During the scan, Tony came into the room, completely unconcerned about the fact that Bucky was under a glass box. He started to talk as soon as he saw them “Hey, good news! Hydra reinstalled the power unit, and the arm is mostly repaired. It’s almost ready to be powered up. Hydra added all the new bells and whistles, like new integrated tracking, and more tech to neutralize Barnes.” 

Steve gasped, and Tony continued “Don’t get so upset, it’s not finished and online yet. However, it will take me a few days to get it out without damaging the internal structure. In the meantime I have the signal jammed. Though I’m not sure why I’m helping the guy who knocked me out and left me tied to a tree.”

Bucky didn’t flinch or respond. Steve continued to look shocked, in a bad way that was shifting to annoyance. Tony shrugs, suddenly uncomfortable, he feels bad. 

“But, I guess we all make mistakes.” Tony added.

The doctor in the room started to remove the apparatus, saying he was done. Bucky still didn’t move but his wide eyes were on Steve.

Standing, Steve said “I think he has been through enough for today” 

Tony nodded, “I’ll get everything ready, Why don’t you two eat a meatloaf, or whatever the greatest generation considers comfort food, then catch some z’s.” As he left, he stopped and said, “Pepper had the chef get some retro food ready for you two. Should be great, the taste of home, or boiled cabbage. Whatever. Go take a nap after, you two look terrible.”

When Tony walked out, the doctor told them that since Bucky has regained his memory in the past, in all likelihood, it would come back again. Bucky just needed time. The doctor would go over the scans and have the results ready by morning.

One of the nurses brought some sweats and sneakers for both Bucky and Steve. After tiredly changing, they dragged themselves to the cafeteria. No one said a word. Steve didn’t even remember what he ate, he was dead on his feet. He just wanted a hot shower and to sleep for days.

When they set the Avengers Training camp up, Steve started living there most of the time. They had a small housing area of apartments. On the way, Steve stops at an office and gives Bucky the keys to an adjacent small apartment. Bucky didn’t even ask why.

Once they arrived, Steve said “I’ll be right in here if you need me.” He pointed to a blue door with Rogers stenciled neatly in white in the middle. It even had a star to either side. Bucky wanted to comment, but he would do that after he woke up. Maybe add some red and white stripes somewhere, later. Much later, after a week of sleep later. Bucky went into his own blue door. It had 104 on the outside. 

Room 104, was bigger and nicer than he imagined. Bucky barely glanced over at the living room, went right past the kitchen to a door at the back. The first door was the bathroom, the second the bedroom. After spending a minute in the bathroom, he flopped face first across the bed and stretched out. The bullet wounds pulled and stung, but he ignored them. He was asleep before he could kick the second shoe off.

Steve was disoriented, there was a voice in his room. The lights suddenly came on, and he sat upright with a jolt. No one was in the room, but the voice came again. “Sergeant Barnes in room 104 has exited the window, and seems disoriented. Assistance is requested by training base security.”

“No. No. Tell security to stay back. Tell them do not approach under any circumstances” he yelled fumbling for his pants. He still wore a t-shirt, and quickly yanked his pants back on. Skipping socks and shoes, he barreled out into the hall. The door to 104 opened automatically as Steve ran up to it. He ran into the bedroom, where the window was smashed out. 

Bucky hadn’t gone far. He is barely yards from the window, crouched, holding his head. He is still in the sweats and one shoe. He looks up at Steve and they stare at each other. Steve holds his hands out in front of him. “Easy Buck,” he says.

Bucky spits “Who the hell are you?”

Steve says “I’m Steve, you’ve known me your whole life…”

Bucky yells “Liar. I don’t know you. I was sent to kill you.”

“Buck, you’re my fr…”

Bucky attacks, growling “Bullshit, You’re trying to trick me. You’re not him. He was smaller, I remember.”

Steve gets punched in the face.

“You are a threat to..” He tries to punch Steve again, but Steve blocks, and they grapple.

“No, Buck I am your friend.” Steve yells, trying to restrain Bucky.

“It’s all lies. I remembered. Senator Pierce said you work for Fury who was a trai..”

“Bucky, Pierce was Hydra. They took your memories. They lied..”

Bucky slams his forehead into Steve’s face once “You are the liar,” Slams him again “You are not him.” Then slams him a third time, leaving Steve seeing stars. Steve’s grip slips, and Bucky grabs him by the front of the shirt and throws him into a tree. Steve lands in a tangled heap, but is quick to give chase.

Bucky takes off, and makes it only a few seconds before he crumbles. When Steve reaches him, his eyes are rolled back, and he is limp.

Tony comes around the corner looking sheepish. “He’ll be okay. I used the Hydra trigger.” Steve looked murderous “Hey. I waited to see if you could take care of it, but I didn’t want to let your buddy cause any more destruction. The state he was in, he could have hurt a lot of innocent people just trying to get away. Lord forbid if he actually went back to Hydra.”

Steve spent the next six hours watching Bucky sleep. He wanted to be there when Bucky woke, to tell him he was among friends. To reassure him that he was safe. Steve regretted not telling Bucky about Dr Erskine and the Super Soldier program. He had convinced himself it was a complicated subject that he could bring up later. He knew he had lied to himself. He didn’t want to tell Bucky because he knew he would have to explain all over again, why he had let someone experiment on him. Bucky didn’t like his reasoning the first time. Steve was also afraid of the moment he would have to explain the experiments, the Russians, Cryofreeze, Hydra and the Winter Soldier. How do you tell someone that they were brainwashed and murdered dozens of people? Steve wasn’t even sure what they let Bucky remember when he came out of the mind wipe procedure. 

Obviously Bucky remembered how to fight, shoot, and engage an enemy. Even remembered complicated things like how to fly a plane just hours from being dumped on the cell floor after having his brain electrocuted. 

Steve still vividly remembered Bucky’s blank face when he woke after returning to his cell. He looked like that now, it was hard to discern sleeping Bucky from freshly electrocuted Bucky. When Tony came back, the new brain doctor was with him. He did some more scans. Both he and Stark insisted that all of the scans just said Bucky was sleeping, nothing to worry about. He would come out of it fit as a fiddle, ready to stab his best friend just like before. 

As the hours wore on, Steve began to doubt that Bucky was just sleeping. He never slept this soundly in the past. Bucky was a messy sleeper. He would roll, lying arms and legs flung out, kick covers, frequently snore and occasionally mumble. As Steve watched he knew this was something else. Bucky was breathing, but other than that, he never moved. His eyelids didn’t even flicker. Finally after a few hours, Natasha opened the door and waved Steve out. 

“Stark told me he used the failsafe on Barnes. He hasn’t moved since?”

Steve nodded.

“He wouldn’t be unconscious this long unless there was a trigger to wake him. Stark is still going through the records from the Hydra lab, but some of the data had been destroyed by the fire.”

Steve was incredulous. “Stark doesn’t know how to wake him?”

“Tony will figure it out.”

Steve didn’t look convinced “If he stays like this too long, could it cause damage?”

“More than what they’ve already done?”

After a few minutes silence, Steve and Nat go into the room. Steve pulls another chair next to his.

Natasha instead kneels next to bed and tucks the hair behind Bucky’s ear. She leans in takes Bucky’s hand, and they both wait. 

Eventually, Sam shows up and Natasha leaves. Sam only stays for an hour, before Steve requests that Sam go back to bed. Reluctantly Sam leaves. 

Steve is left alone again. He leans in and starts talking to Bucky. Apologizing for not telling him about the super serum, apologizing for leading him to battle, apologizing for the train and the horrible aftermath.

Finally two hours later, Stark comes in with a machine that looks suspiciously like a thrown together version of the halo from the mind wiping chair. 

He hooks it up, and it starts with a crackling hum and the smell of burning wires. Steve wants him to turn it off, but grits his teeth and trusts everything will work out. Starks says once they start, they have to run this through the whole treatment or it could leave Bucky a vegetable. 

Arranging the machine around Bucky’s head, Stark sets everything in motion. Both anxiously wait. Before long, the machine sparks and pops, blowing out the lights in the room. In the dark room the machine gives an ominous orange glow, it hums for ten more minutes before turning itself off. 

After they both look at each other, Stark leans forward to pry open Bucky’s eye when Bucky clumsily swats at him. Steve leans in tears of relief in his eyes. 

“Hey Buck, you’re safe here. It’s okay, you’re safe.”

Bucky looks annoyed, eyes only open a slit, then closing. 

Steve half laughs “Okay, you get some rest, we can go over things when you’re ready.” he says leaning over Bucky.

Bucky opens his eyes again, scowling at Steve, “Why are you crying? I just tried to kill you. Who are you really?”

“It’s me Steve… Steve Rogers, we grew up together remember?” He said trying to calm Bucky, his hand gently touching Bucky’s arm.

Bucky roughly jerked his arm to brush Steve off. “I remember Steve Rogers. He was barely a hundred pounds soaking wet. But you, I remember you now. I was assigned to kill you. You should have died. I shot you. The Romanoff woman should be dead too.” he said starting to sit up. “You are my mission.”


	19. Chapter 19

Steve sagged. Bucky was remembering. Just, not what Steve hoped he would remember. “You’re right Buck. I was your mission, but the guy who gave you the mission. He’s dead. He was Hydra. And you’re right, I was much smaller, but I wasn’t just a hundred pounds.” Steve gave Bucky a smile he hoped didn’t look fake.

Frowning, Bucky said “less than a hundred.” From the corner Tony smirked as he slowly rolled up a power cord.

Slightly offended, Steve tried not to get snippy and have a tone. Tried to keep his voice level in his reply “Not less a hundred, but not what I am now. Alexander Pierce wanted you to kill me, but he wasn’t who he said he was. You’re remembering things just slowly. I don’t know how much will come back, but..”

Cutting him off, Bucky sat up in the hospital bed and pointed at Steve “Wait? I tried to kill you. I definitely shot you more than once. So, does that mean you want to throw me in prison? Is that why I’m here?”

Tony jumped in and dryly said “Actually, you’re here because you wanted me to fix your busted arm, then Hydra kidnapped Spangles here,” he gestured at Steve “and you went off half cocked, to save him. During your daring rescue, Hydra erased your memories, then a couple hundred Hydra guys tried to kill you and now you are resting and recovering in our fine facility.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky looked back and forth between the two. “You fixed my arm?” He looked skeptical. “Isn’t it supposed to move?” He pushed up the left sleeve of his sweatshirt, and ran his fingers over the metal arm. 

Draping the power cord he was wrapping over the top of the machine, Tony raised his hands. “Well, It’s mostly fixed. Not by me, but by some Hydra hacks. Once I fix what they fixed, you should be ready to go back to whatever it was you were doing before.”

Looking at Tony, Bucky growled “Not prison?”

Steve stood up, “I’m not gonna let anyone put you in prison.”

“I tried to kill you. I distinctly remember that. I remember shooting you.” Bucky paused, then looked Steve in the eyes, “Not just you either, there were others. People who actually died.”

Steve glared “It’s not your fault.”

Bucky glared right back, and growled “I remember doing it. No one had a gun to my head. ”

Tony was tinkering with the headpiece of the machine, trying to fold it up to get it out of the room.

Steve moved into Bucky’s space “No. They had something like this to your head.” then he turned, and kicked the machine, putting a big dent into the metal base and knocking it onto its side. When it hit the floor, part of the machine shattered, and pieces scattered across the floor. “They used it to make you forget who you are”

Tony raised his hands and backed out of the room. 

Bucky’s eyes stayed locked on Steve’s “So what did you use it for? To make me believe I’m on your side?”

Startled, Steve stepped back “What?”

“That thing was still smoking,” Bucky waved at the wreckage “It was on recently, and hanging right over my head when I woke. You think I don’t know you just used that thing on me?”

Stammering, Steve tried “No. Yes. We used it on you. But to help..”

“I’m sure the other guys thought they were helping save the world. Who are you helping?” Bucky said with a sarcastic tone.

Looking Bucky in the eyes, Steve softly answered “You. We want to help you.”

Bucky stopped talking. He looked away. Steve sighed, closing his eyes for a second. The silence stretched.

Quietly, Bucky asked “Why?” 

“Do you remember all the stories I told you?” 

“Yeah.”

“You still have to ask why?”

Bucky sat back. He put his right hand into his hair, pushing it back, tugging it, and failing to get it to stay out of his eyes. Finally, he looked back at Steve and sighed. “I can’t tell if your lying to me.” then even quieter he whispered, “Everybody has been lying to me.”

Tony glanced into the room, then crept in and gently rummaged through the wreckage of the machine. He pocketed a small glowing cylinder. Backing out of the room he added, “Except me.”

Bucky immediately turned to face him. “But, you used that thing.” He growled, gesturing to some of the parts on the floor. “You put your friends in that? You brainwash them too?”

Exasperated, Steve yelled “It’s not for Brainwashing.”

Bucky grumbled “Coulda fooled me.”

Tony slipped out of the room “I’m going back out there, to my lab, somewhere else.”

Steve and Bucky both sat for a few seconds, neither looking at the other. The room was quiet, and Steve thought the clock on the wall suddenly sounded very loud.

Breaking the silence Bucky said, “You never told me how you turned from a hundred pounds to three hundred.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, “I joined the Army.”

Bucky didn’t look amused. His eyebrows came together and he frowned “Is that a joke?” 

Steve raised his hands, “Sorry, sorry. I was… I volunteered for a government experiment. It was called Project Rebirth. It turned me into this.”

“Then why don’t they have a whole army, just like you?” Bucky sagged, the venom had drained out of him and Steve thought he looked like he had enough. The fight had gone out of him.

“It’s complicated.” Steve answered. “Hydra killed the guy who ran the experiment.” 

Bucky sighed and leaned back against the headboard, “Your story is full of holes.” 

Steve half smiled “If I was making it up, I would make up a more believable story.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky mumbled “You know how to lie when it suits you.”

Steve sat back, watching as Bucky couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He tried for a few minutes, but then exhaustion pulled him under. 

It felt like seconds later, Steve jerked awake. His head had dropped suddenly, startling him from his doze. He looked over and Bucky had tipped towards his heavy left side, and his head leaned at an awkward angle. 

Steve stretched, he was sore from sleeping sitting up. He could feel every bruise from their violent escape. Bucky had taken the brunt of the fight, and most of the damage, not to mention the injuries he had from before the escape attempt. He still had dark rings under his eyes, but his color had come back a little. Super serum or not, they both still needed rest. A lot of rest.

Steve stared at him for a few seconds, then must have drifted off again. He knew he had lost quite a bit of time, because when he looked around, the light outside was drastically different. The big window was bright as the sun streamed through the blinds. The sunbeam warmed the skin on Steve’s left arm. Bucky was still sound asleep. In his sleep he had moved down the bed and shifted onto his left side. His mouth was open a crack and he snored softly.

Eventually, Steve noticed that there was a message on his phone. Tony had the upgrades ready to go, whenever Bucky woke and was willing to let them work on the arm. The message also had commentary about whether Bucky was sane enough to sit still for an upgrade, since his questionable recent melt down. And a few rude comments about whether they would all be at risk if Bucky actually had two functioning arms, since he was very capable of mass destruction with just one.

While Steve was still scrolling through his messages, he heard Bucky mumble. Bucky curled even tighter, and mumbled garbled numbers. Even garbled, Steve knew the numbers. The serial numbers Steve had seared into his memory. Hearing Bucky’s soft voice saying them out loud brought a wave of conflicting emotions. Gently, Steve reached out. As soon as Steve touched Bucky’s arm, his eyes snapped open. Bucky jerked back so violently, he bent the bed railing on the other side. His eyes were wide, searching and he held his right fist in front of him defensively. 

“Oh, God.” Bucky gasped. “You joined the Army.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr, if you are interested or have any questions. Come by and visit, it's stickypostbasement.tumblr.com


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